


Omelas

by ParadiseParrot



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Age Difference, Biting, Hurt/Comfort, Inspired by The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas, M/M, Mechpreg, Multi, Neglect, No War AU, RAREPAIR HEAVEN, Ratchet and Wheeljack's huge dinosaur and protectobot family, Rating will change, Size Difference, Slow Burn, Starscream is offended you would ever imply he is traumatized even though he totally is, Sticky Sexual Interfacing (Transformers), Transformer Sparklings, Vos as weird insular Seeker nation, allergic to feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:22:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 59,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27823684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ParadiseParrot/pseuds/ParadiseParrot
Summary: Vos is a powerful and secretive city, rich in ore, culture, and military might. Depended on for their power by the Prime and Lord High Protector, their ancient religious practices have been allowed to form into their own sect uncontested.In the city of spires, a Seeker in their prime is kept underground, without access to air and sky, to eventually go insane and in turn absorb all of Vos's bad fortunes and fears. Beautiful lives depend on the terrible suffering of one, and a blind optic is turned to their fate.A "volunteer," they say.The current flightless one has not lost his mind, frame suffering with neglect. He waits in illness, missing what was stolen from him and alight with vengeance, for something to change.
Relationships: Grimlock/Starscream (Transformers)
Comments: 230
Kudos: 222





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was my NaNoWriMo piece for 2020! I hit the word count, but it is longer than what NaNo allots. Right now this fic is rated M but the rating will rise to E. You will be warned when my SFW career on this account ends!
> 
> List of ships that are established in this story, but would disappoint people by tagging for:
> 
> Ratchet/Wheeljack (offspring list available on request)  
> Skywarp/Thundercracker  
> Prowl/Ironhide  
> Megatron/Soundwave/Cosmos  
> Optimus/Jazz/a whole happy and consenting poly harem (list also available on request)
> 
> All but one of these ships are currently bursting with babies, though they are by no means the story focus. Just the kind of world they live in. Thanks for reading, and let me know how you feel about this one!

Vosians didn’t like leaving guests unattended.

Sure, Grimlock had a spacious room to himself, with a washrack built for wide, winged mechs. He had a balcony devoid of a railing, the door to which he kept firmly locked. And he was kept busy when ushered (hustled) out of his temple accommodation to the military academy, or the airfield.

He'd walked a bit during his free hours too, on the unsettling transparent paths that ran between most buildings. Over him, under him, beside him. Seekers whizzed by, in traffic lanes he couldn't begin to unravel. When he had asked to the see the temple's ground level, his guides had shifted uncomfortably.

"The old levels?" Grimlock had started learning how to read these Seeker wings, how they twitched and rose with emotion whether their faces were smooth or not. His guides were not good liars, because their wings had just quivered. "You don't want to go down there."

Grimlock tilted his head, just so. Then he rose to his full height, knowing full well they would shrink back.

"I do have freedom of movement?" he asked, a guilty twinge in his spark. Wheeljack didn't like hearing about him intimidating during peacetime. His guides looked at one another.

"Of course, but--"

"Then I'd like to see the ground level," he said firmly. "The temple is my accomodation, after all, and I'm quite used to the planet's surface. History can be interesting."

The real reason he was so curious, of course, was the fact that it existed at all. It was apparently very holy, the old part of this temple, and Grimlock hadn't yet figured out  _ why.  _ Of course he wasn't religious--and not in this  _ weird  _ way of Vosians--but the rumour had it that Seekers were a particular kind of ground-sick. That they went crazy away from the open sky for too long. But he was sure they could squirm for a little while down in the dirt with him.

If not, he'd have to figure something out.

"I could go alone," he said, "and just park my shuttle out front. That way your trackers are on and you have no need to be concerned."

His guides' wings quivered like he'd flicked them. The taller one, a younger mech, stood straighter.

"Oh, no, Ambassador," he said quickly, though Grimlock swore the edge in his voice relaxed. "We couldn't leave you, it's just--"

"--that a public part of the temple still requires babysitting?" Grimlock asked dryly. "I understand Vosians aren't fond of the ground. I only want to see the historical site. If your superiors find out, I'll tell them it was my demand. No punishment, no surface for you. Deal?"

"We can't  _ leave  _ you," the shorter Seeker repeated. His Vosian accent was heavier. "It isn't done with...guests, sir. It would be the height of rudeness."

But they were hesitating, which was very good. Being an intimidating beast mech carried perks.

"I am not offended," Grimlock said. "And if it would be more comfortable for you--"

He sighed internally at himself, pulling out a gold credits chip. Wheeljack would  _ really  _ be unhappy if he found out Grimlock was bribing mechs out of curiosity.

Still, his guards' optics went brighter. Promising.

"--I'll be back in half an hour," he said. "I'd only like to look, like I said. Touch my feet to the ground. Are mechs down there right now?"

"No sir," said the taller guard immediately. His optics were almost orange, glowing towards the gold chip. Were they not paying these all-important guides well enough? "The tours only happen for bigger delegations, and the priests will be on the cloud levels."

"The ground floor is only used once a year," the shorter guard added. "For public ceremonies, anyway."

The closer you were to the sky, the holier you were, so they said. Grimlock's own accommodations were halfway up the temple towers, and would still very much result in a fall to his death if he stepped off his balcony.

"My shuttle is easily accessed from my quarters," Grimlock said, letting the taller mech take the credits. His government-provided vehicle was parked in a bay down the hall. "I appreciate your cooperation."

Anyone important would assume Grimlock had his guides with him, piloting the shuttle to a bar or tourist site or wherever it was other delegates wasted their time. Apparently no one important was around to worry about him bringing the craft down, down, to the foundations of the old city and park it carefully around the side. There were well-worn paths here, and the faint sounds of traffic from above, but it was nothing like the glass towers higher up. Vosians loved transparent platforms, wide windows, and reflection. The foundations of the great towers were old metal, though, and not particularly well-kept visually. It seemed the ground was for holding up their spires and nothing else.

The temple's main floor was better-kept, though dull from a lack of polish. The paintings on the metal had long faded, though the shadows of the spires had probably done work to preserve them. Paddles would like something like that, Grimlock thought, and he snapped a picture for his brother of the most spectacular one. Apparently he was a tourist after all.

Odd that this lowest level had so few windows. Very little light found its way in, and Grimlock had to dial up his optic sensors to get an idea. What windows they had were so old down here that they were  _ arrow slits,  _ and he could see above him where the place had been fortified and re-fortified. Clearly Vos had not always simply spired up, but they had felt enough for their old temple to keep it in use.

The elevator from the higher floors was modern and expected, though likely the Vosians typically flew down. The ancient door across from it was not.

Grimlock didn't know what he had been expecting, when he moved towards it instead of the altar, the artifacts, the paintings. Just an unassuming entrance, almost a hatch, with no modern lock or ID scanner. He would have to dip his head to walk through it, assuming it went anywhere. Most likely it was a filled-in passageway, left over from ancient Vos.

The last thing he expected was for it to be locked  _ manually _ . It was more expected for his curious, foolish self to take the handle anyway, and pull.

The ancient lock snapped under his fingers.

_ Well, frag.  _ Sooner or later someone would notice it was damaged, likely after he left the city a few days from now. Trust a big lumbering Dynobot to break the first ancient artifact he touched.

Of course, he was too surprised to see the  _ passageway _ past the door to be too fussed about the lock. And after all, he had already made a string of bad decisions today. What was one more? Grimlock checked his chronometer, and he had time. He could set the lock in its place after.

Vosians hated the ground, and his guides' reactions had made that clear. So an  _ underground passage  _ made no sense at all, and must be very ancient indeed. Even more confusing was the modern lighting, dim and soft above the steps. This passage was used.

Grimlock went down.

And down.

He had to turn to the side a few times, it was so small, and he couldn't imagine  _ Seekers  _ using such a thing. Even he was claustrophobic when in a moment, it widened, out into a small room. Dug out from the metal, the walls vividly painted. The artificial light meant they had only faded directly under the bulbs, and the images led to a small, plain altar. To its left was an alcove, for what purpose he didn't know. To its right were...bars?

Grimlock smelled sickness.

He was surprised it hadn't hit him coming down. Now that he placed it it was cloying, the smell of grime and virus. Someone had purged down here, a few times by the stench of it, and not cleaned it up. He had to clamp down on his engine and his battle protocols, the low rumble of a bad feeling reverberating through his frame.  _ Something was not right. _

He nearly turned around and walked right back out, up the steps, to his shuttle. Forget Vosians,  _ he  _ hated it down here, he wanted out, and he wasn't going to find himself trapped in an illegal vomit temple or whatever this was. All Grimlock knew was there was no way he should have been able to walk down here.

Instead, he walked towards the bars. Yes, someone had purged here, on the floors of this...cell, energon receptacles strewn about it. Oh, no.

_ Oh, no, no, no. _

White wings, red striped, poked out from a thermoblanket at the cell's very back. Grimlock recognized a flight lock, under the filth, and his spark jumped in his chest. Was this...a prisoner? Some kind of masochist monk? Why was someone  _ lying in purged energon,  _ under this ancient building, where this city refused to venture?

The wing's owner moaned thinly. Grimlock's spark jumped again.

"Hello?" he ventured, almost a whisper.

The thermoblanket shifted, and a dull, rust-stained face turned towards him.  _ Dead,  _ he thought at first, but for the movement, and the noise. He would have thought of the optics staring sightlessly too, until they went wide and bright. So bright that Grimlock nearly winced, the most piercing thing he had ever seen. The intensity of the gaze almost threw him backwards, but he met it anyway. He was a soldier, after all.

This apparently very sick, imprisoned mech was quite lucid. Grimlock wondered if he would ever forget the way those optics had borne him down, accusing and vivid, from a deathly figure curled in the back of the cell.

And young, Grimlock guessed. Vosians made it easy, with their age tattoos, and on this Seeker he saw none.

He didn't think about what he did next. The bars were reinforced, but he ripped through them anyway--apparently they were fit to hold sick Seekers, not Dynobots.

The Seeker was light in his arms when he reached him, and Grimlock let the filthy thermoblanket fall. There were more on the shuttle, and that one ought to be incinerated. The mech was nearly too weak to lift his head, wings drooping, but the optics, they  _ burned.  _ Hate, and fear, and all those things in between.

It didn't matter to Grimlock in that moment why the Seeker might be underground here, in a feeble cell under an ancient temple. Only that he would take him out of it.

No one stopped him on the stairs, or in the temple's ground floor as he ascended. No one was by his shuttle, as Grimlock entered it and set his new cargo gently on the seats. He threw a clean travel blanket over the Seeker and dropped into the pilot's chair.

No one stopped him as he flew either, and his Primal credentials made the border crossing easy. Luckily for him, because after whatever it was he was doing Grimlock doubted he'd ever have such a thing again.

They left Vos, city of spires, city of fliers. City of dirty ancient cells, and secrets.

* * *

Sometime between Kalis and Nova Cronum, the mech fell asleep.

Grimlock had put the shuttle on autopilot the second he could, but the Seeker had had no useful words for him. Certainly no  _ thank yous _ , though Grimlock had expected that. It was probably a shock for a massive warbuild to steal you out of your windowless cell and put you in his shuttle out of nowhere.

Being  _ bitten,  _ and having bilious, sharp words flung at him by a mech who could hardly lift his head? That was new.

"I'll kill you too," rasped the Seeker, even as Grimlock held him in place. He thought his siblings might have been stronger as newsparks than this. "I'll kill all of them. All of you. What you did..."

Grimlock's queries ("what did they do? how did you get down there?") went unanswered, and at a certain point the mech just stared with those bright, bright optics. Grimlock, satisfied the Seeker couldn't get up and make good on those threats, returned to the pilot's seat. There was a lot to think about now.

Primarily, the fact that he had just abruptly ended his trip, slipped his guards, and would  _ definitely  _ have Vosian authorities on his tail for the trouble. And that wasn't even getting into the part where he'd taken a...prisoner? Sacrifice? Out of the city. The very insular, mysterious city that only offered freedom of movement through bribes. He spared a thought for the guards he had given shanix to, because there  _ would  _ be trouble now. He couldn't bring himself to regret it.

He wasn't particularly worried about the Prime. Even if Grimlock had impulsively rescued some kind of criminal, or hated figure, the conditions he had been kept in were squalid. The Lord High Protector would be more difficult, because Vos was an important military power. He'd want Grimlock's head if this went  _ very  _ south, but more than likely he'd just get sent to the same front he started.

Though it would be a difficult war, if he started one. Vos was the planet's  _ most  _ important military power, given its dependence on fliers. Oops.

So it felt like the safest choice to comm his sire first. A little nepotism was okay, when you needed to save someone's life and maybe yourself from a court martial. Grimlock wouldn't have to drag his Seeker to the hospital and answer the questions of strangers...and Optimus would listen to Ratchet, if Ratchet asked him to. All Grimlock would have to do was face him first.

He glanced behind him, at the sleeping form on the seats. His ETA at the free clinic would be deep in the night, but Ratchet would have time to get there. Grimlock had a key, and the know-how to start the patch-job if he had to. The most intimidating part would be his sire, who was going to kill him for whatever it was Grimlock had just done.

_ I need you to meet me at the clinic. I have a very sick mech with me and I had to leave Vos suddenly. _

It wasn't long before a return message hit him, and even over comm it made him wince.

_ What did you  _ do,  _ Patch. ETA _

His sparkling name was fond from Wheeljack, teasing from Swoop. From Ratchet it meant he was about to be a chastised child again, caught doing something stupid. Grimlock sent off his estimated time and sighed, trying to find some comfort in the deep rumble of his engines. Yes, he'd been a fool. He might have ruined Vosian relations with the planetary government for years to come, because he was bored and nosy and ill suited for this job.

But he couldn't just  _ leave  _ the mech there. And he knew when Ratchet saw the state he was in, he would never have either.

One more message, just so Ratchet could fully prepare.  _ I need you to call the Prime when you see what's going on here, too. I'll need you. _

_ For spark's sake. _

It would be awhile yet before they'd enter Iacon borders. Grimlock stepped away from the pilot's chair again, because in recharge he could get a better look at his new cargo.

This Vosian did have marks, now that he had a chance to take a close look. They were sparse compared to almost every mech he had dealt with, and he suspected that meant they were young. The wide optics helped too--the fire that had blazed in them--but he was in too bad a shape to tell from things like plating.

Grimlock resisted the urge to trace the glyphs, set at the base of the mech's wings. Old Vosian, not anything he could read. The marks he'd seen on the grown Seekers he met with had flowed out from the smalls of their backs, across the expanse of their wings, over their shoulders. The very old high priest had been covered head to toe in them, all detailed in gleaming gold paint. The few marks here were dull from a lack of care. Grimlock wondered what they had meant to this mech, in his life before the cell.

The marks would not have had a large frame to cover, anyway. This Seeker was lithe, for speed and maneuverability. The plating was too hot when he brushed it, a sign of poor ventilation and some kind of virus. His paint had been red, white and blue once, his black helm and dark faceplate striking. His finish chipped all over him, but especially about the wrists. This was a nervous tic, Grimlock knew. He had seen it countless times in soldiers. Grimlock guessed he'd been a fashionable mech once, with a sleek speedy shape as he had.

All the more reason to wonder why such a well-bred, sought-after flier was rotting below their temple.

Carefully, Grimlock pulled the thermoblanket back over the Seeker's shoulders. At least Ratchet could be sure that whatever Grimlock had done, it wasn't put the mech in  _ this  _ kind of state.

The Iacon border was no concern, not this late at night. Grimlock didn't enjoy potentially the last time he would re-enter the city on a civilian passport, taking the shuttle steadily towards the east end.

One light was on in the clinic. Grimlock took a deep vent in, setting the shuttle down behind the little two-floor building. It was unassuming and a bit of a drive away from the family hab, so Ratchet could treat the varied sort of clientele who couldn't afford Iacon hospitals. Apparently tonight was slow in the east end, or its denizens were doing their Syk elsewhere, because Grimlock saw no one as he exited with his cargo in his arms. The Seeker hung limp, and he took care not to bump him against the narrow door.

_ Outside, sire. _

The clinic door opened just as Grimlock stepped up to it. Immediately Ratchet was pulling at him, blue optics blazing in the vivid light of the clinic.

"Bring them in, then," he snapped, tone clipped and business. "I left your carrier with the little ones for this, so--Primus, what  _ happened? _ "

His optics had alighted on the Seeker, his jaw working unhappily as he took in the state of him.

Grimlock was not one to waste time. "I found him in a windowless cell below their main temple. He was lying in his own purged energon, has a flight lock. Fever."

"I'll wait to ask  _ what  _ you were doing below that bird temple," Ratchet said. "I find it hard to believe, though. Vosians hate to touch ground in that place."

"No, they were reluctant to let me down there," Grimlock said. For all his fiery words, Ratchet's hands were so gentle, brushing the Seeker's forehead. His mouth was a thin, unhappy line as he took in the damage, the signs of long-term neglect. "They  _ do  _ use the ground floor, just for religious ceremonies. This old door was unlocked, and at the end of it...a cell, and this mech. That's why I asked you to contact the Prime."

"Yes," Ratchet said. He had already accessed the Seeker's medical port. "I can see how you've just caused an international incident. Optimus will meet us here."

" _ Here? _ "

Ratchet leveled such a black look that Grimlock almost stepped back. "Yes, here. He's doing me a favour,  _ and  _ of course he was concerned when I mentioned the  _ very sick mech.  _ Which is what you have here," he said. "Straxus's rust, a severely damaged ventilation system, damaged fuel tanks--poor energon consumption--and  _ long  _ term flight sickness."

Grimlock tilted his head. Flight sickness was something woeful Vosians got in those one-shanix romance novels Slag liked, a rumour of what happened when a Seeker was grounded too long. Really it caused irritability and headaches. Grimlock remembered Swoop's teen years well enough to remember the results of his literal groundings. He remembered Ratchet's impatient huff too, promising Swoop he'd get over his difficult time.

Ratchet noticed his pause, and leveled him another look. It was times like this that Grimlock saw the fearsome Chief Medical Officer for what he was, who saved lives by clawing them straight back out of the Allspark. Not only Grimlock's kind, firm sire, a mech who cared so much about everybody that it aged him prematurely.

"Flight sickness is very real for Seekers," Ratchet said. He had laid out his tools and begun his work so fast, that Grimlock hadn't even noticed him start. "Your brother, and plenty of other fliers, won't believe the severity, so put out of your head what Swoop's gone through. Deprived of flight, and primarily open spaces and sky, psychological symptoms appear and increase in severity. Depression, anxiety, schizoaffective issues. Which, of course, opens a mech up to the problems we're seeing here. It's a terrible cruelty, so the fact that you found him below their holiest site in a cell...I'll be bringing Pharma into your mess too, then. Something is going on here."

A chill snuck its way around Grimlock's spark, sick and unsettling. If his sire knew about this, it was no secret. Vosians would know such a thing about themselves, so to find one of their own the way he had...

It was fortunate none of those well-marked Vosian priests were in his reach at the moment, if they wanted their sparks intact.

"He was across from an altar," Grimlock said numbly. "A very old one. The lighting was all working, and the path down was clean..."

Ratchet paused, pulled his tool back...and squeezed, his optics flaring white for a moment. Grimlock realized his hands were shaking, and his sire had stepped back long enough to contain himself.

"Religious, mumbo-jumbo, Primus-fragging  _ slag, _ " he snarled. Then he heaved a long vent, returned to his work, and Grimlock really did step back. "For spark's sake, Grimlock. I don't know what you've stumbled on, but this mech's condition is sickening. This puts some of the things Pharma's told me into perspective..."

Vosians were secretive, Grimlock knew. He'd seen it especially clearly on his trip, of course, but even confident Pharma got touchy if too much of his home city was brought up. Plenty left, of course, but it was hard to return once you did. Seekers were fiercely proud of their warrior nature, and those Vosian fliers that weren't were happy to uphold their complexes for a share in the prosperity. Because distant, closed-off Vos was  _ rich,  _ and powerful, and why else would Iacon spend so much time on them otherwise?

"Mentally I'm not even sure what we'll have here when I'm through," Ratchet muttered. "Poor scrap has been out of the air a long time, I'd wager years. Did he speak to you?"

"Uh..." Grimlock fully considered lying, telling his sire that no, the mech had mostly been unconscious. But Ratchet could catch any one of his sparkling's lies as it was leaving their mouths. "He made a lot of threats, as we left. He was too tired to act on any. I can't say I blamed him."

"No," Ratchet said, sighing. "Neither can I."

He worked in silence for some time after that. Grimlock's mind was alight with even more disturbing possibilities, some of them ridiculous enough that Swoop would make fun of him for them. Maybe some kind of death cult ran Vos? Or this mech was being punished in some particularly terrible, penance sense? Even if he was some kind of criminal, the Seeker's treatment went against even the pre-reform rules. Even in military prison you got exercise time.

Grimlock did not want to think of military prison right now.

Eventually, Ratchet stood back. "He's stable, but he needs more than I can give him here. His recovery is going to be a long one." His face had softened into the expression he had at home, among his sparklings and near Wheeljack. Grimlock clamped on the guilty feeling that hit his spark, in spite of himself.

"I don't think you did the wrong thing," Ratchet said, and now his voice was gentle. "He won't offline on us now, but he's suffered terribly. Optimus will smooth over the diplomatic parts, if they can be."

"If they can be," Grimlock said quietly. Ratchet's hand was soft on his arm.

"I was worried about you," Ratchet murmured. "For what will happen due to leaving your post. Your carrier's nervous as hell, but I'm glad you did it. You rescued someone suffering."

Grimlock didn't have the cleanest military rap sheet, to put it shortly. Since his incident he'd been trusted to join delegations, overseeing the military operations of the different city-states for the Lord High Protector. He knew what a wrong move would mean--a court martial, the front. Prison again.

Breaking his parents' sparks, worse than when he'd come home in stasis cuffs.

Ratchet smiled tiredly, and patted his arm. "You have a couple hours before Optimus arrives, and I can tell you haven't recharged. I set up my cot for you. Put in the comfortable pillows."

Grimlock let Ratchet lead him again, to the upstairs room his sire napped in between patients. He let his optics linger on the holophoto of First Aid at the berthside, his youngest brother all round edges and the cutest smile. His sire probably kept it there to remind him why shifts could only go so long, with small ones who needed him on or off the carrier bond. The berth creaked worriedly under his weight. He ignored it, and let himself fall into recharge. Better use the time while he had it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starscream was proud later to say that he fought.

Starscream was proud later to say that he fought. The priests kept tripping over their hymn, the guard's grips on his arms hard enough to dent as he kicked and screamed and scratched.

"Augh-- _ fraggit!"  _ one roared, and with satisfaction Starscream realized he had caught one's optic with a claw. He felt the energon run down his hand, hot and sticky, and even when his fingers were bent back and he screamed, he felt satisfied that he could still strike.

As he struggled, the high priest ahead only straightened. Starscream wanted to scrape the stupid glyphs right off his body.

"Language," he admonished, as if the guards were unruly schoolmechs. "You are participating in a sacred moment in our history. This is the changing-over."

"Frag your history!" Starscream shrieked, as the chanting began anew. "When I get my hands on you, you ancient wretch, you'll never fly again! I'll kill you all!"

He would never admit when he caught the high priest's optic, it unsettled him. Chilly red, that looked on him like he was simply disapproving of a flaw. An old mech watching a young person misbehave.

"You're interrupting the hymns," he said.

Something clamped over Starscream's mouth. Not a hand, because when he bit down, no one jerked or cried out. His screams were muffled after that, his voicebox hoarse. Even with one arm now twisted behind him, Starscream kicked out and clawed as best as he could. Straining, reaching towards the elevator button. The cohort of priests sang on. The high priest stood calmly before all of them.

His trine would report him missing, surely. This couldn't  _ still  _ be a ritual in their modern, independent city, could it? The texts called for  _ volunteers,  _ devout Seekers in their prime willing to help _ ,  _ and Primus knew Starscream was not interested in helping  _ other  _ people succeed! There was too much for him too, too many plans to complete.

"No sedatives?" grunted the guard he'd slashed. "He hasn't quit."

"No," said the high priest. "Primus must see he knows what is happening, and has given himself."

Starscream would have laughed. Given himself? Only a zealot would  _ give himself  _ to this.

The panic only really set in when they stepped into the elevator. It was a short trip that felt eternal, and he watched the high priest open an ancient-looking door. They were about to go underground, and with a jolt he understood that this was  _ really happening  _ to him. The priests of Vos really were about to lock him underground, to make him go insane from lack of sky and air. And they would keep him alive as long as they could, to make sure Primus didn't forget Vos's sacrifice.

He screamed into the gag when someone  _ twisted  _ his wingtip hard, scraping off paint.

"Unorthodox," he heard the high priest murmur. He imagined ripping his stupid voice box out of his stupid throat. "Very wild, this one. But perfect in every other sense."

Starscream was top of his class, an up-and-coming racer, on track to become the best flier in the city if he kept at it. Permits to study abroad were still sitting in his inbox, inviting his trinemates to join him. His health was robust, his grades perfect, his family lines sublime. His social life? Well, who cared if people liked you when you had everything?

Not to mention that with his sire's death two vorns ago, Starscream had inherited a number of well appointed estates and accounts--

\--ah.

No wonder he was a top candidate, then. What a tithe their  _ volunteer  _ could offer to Primus.

He knew they must be some storeys underground by the time they came to a small room. He didn't catch every detail, not at first, but he saw the dim lighting, the altar...and the cell, with bars. Only bars? Then this place was not ready for him.

To Starscream's own fury, though, as the cell door was opened and he was held firmly in place, he realized he was shuddering. Not even a breeze in this room, no natural light. The ceiling seemed to close on him, as if the ancient metal had swallowed the sky up. As he was pushed towards the door, he saw that the cell was only about two of his body-lengths across. A berth sat low to the floor. There was room to transform, yes, but he'd bounce off the walls in a moment. The damage to his alt mode in trying would ground him.

"No!  _ No! _ "

He grew wild again, as they pushed him in. A guard had to shove his fingers out of the doorframe as they  _ sealed it _ , so Starscream turned his attention to the bars. He screamed, and screamed, and  _ screamed,  _ slamming himself against them. He would scream forever if he had to, till someone heard him, till someone relented and let him back out. The priests took their places at the altar, and through the coolant on his face he saw the high priest's lips moving, going through the motions of the mass. He did not so much as turn his head.

So began the sacrifice's next three vorns.

* * *

Optimus arrived with only his guard captain, so the Lord High Protector wasn't aware yet of the situation. Ironhide had his optics narrowed, hand hovering over the holster at his side. Everything about his posture screamed  _ unhappy  _ about the situation. Still, he'd escorted Optimus out anyway rather than calling him out to Megatron. Grimlock supposed that counted for something.

"He's through here," Ratchet said, before Grimlock had to explain himself. "Optimus, the mech is in a bad way. I want him on hospital machines, but the situation..."

"...Will be delicate," Optimus finished. His optics were alight with concern as Ratchet led them into the ward, where the Seeker lay on a spark monitor. He paused in the doorway, leaving Ironhide to try and look past his arm. "Ah. I see."

Ratchet had only cleaned up the mech where necessary, to do whatever treatments he could in the clinic. The Seeker looked about as bad as when Grimlock had brought him in.

"We'll all have the latest patch, but the conditions down there left him exposed to viruses," Ratchet said. "Weakened systems, and he's not properly processing fuel. It could be months before he's fully recovered, if that. That's not even getting  _ started  _ on the flight sickness."

Now the Prime's optics rested on Grimlock. Always kind with him, because he had known Grimlock's parents since he was Orion Pax the archivist. But now more appraising, sharp. Grimlock was no longer a cute little sparkling, but the instigator of this mess.

"I found him in a pool of his own purged energon," Grimlock said flatly. "In an old cell underneath their temple."

"The planet surface?" Ironhide asked in surprise. He had shuffled in, his optic ridges rising when he saw the state the Seeker was in. "Heard they stay in high-rises there."

"Seems their ground floor temple is a holy place," Grimlock said, and the words tasted bitter in his mouth. "There were no guards present, and across from this mech's cell there was an altar and religious items. If he's some kind of prisoner, he was being held in a shocking way."

The Prime's optics had narrowed to slits, and Grimlock saw the minute twitch of his fingers. Technically, the Prime was Cybertron's religious head, though he ruled in a firmly secular way. If there was one thing he hated, it was using his name to cover for cruelty and archaic practices. It was why Grimlock thought they had a chance here at all of helping.

" _ If  _ he's some kind of criminal," he began carefully, "I suspect his condition does not fall under  _ any  _ legal method of prisoner care. That doesn't stop some city-states, but your description sounds like no prison I've ever seen. Grimlock, I will require a detailed report of what you found."

"Of course," he said immediately. Relief flooded his systems, though they were nowhere near out of trouble. "Right away."

" _ I  _ suspect some kind of profoundly illegal religious practice," Ratchet said. His arms were folded, optics flashing. "Vos apparently has a history of sacrifice, though it was supposedly phased out some generations ago. As you know, they are  _ very  _ secretive about their practices."

"Yes," Optimus said glumly. "Even the most innocuous things are a fight with Vos. They're hesitant to have me so much as enter their main temple on my visits. If my suspicion is correct, it is very serious indeed."

"You have a suspicion?" Grimlock asked. It wasn't surprising that Cybertron's Prime, a former archivist at that, might be privy to the planet's more obscure spiritual practices. Optimus's nod was slow and solemn.

"In pre-Golden Age Vos, the practice was to regularly starve a young mech underground," he said. He was clearly fighting to keep the discomfort out of his voice. "They believed the sacrifice of a mech's wings was the secret to their own prosperity. A reminder of what they had all avoided."

"We're well past the Golden Age," Ratchet said. He had begun to pace. "This mech was likely imprisoned years. He would have shut down well before that."

Optimus shifted uncomfortably. "This practice did evolve, so sacrifices would not have to be done so barbarically. The priests today speak of volunteers, who in the past would cloister themselves to sacrifice their wings. As our people are hard to kill, one of these mechs could last a very long time."

Grimlock hadn't realized till that moment that he was gripping the window sill. One of his claws had punched right through, and he quickly pulled it back out as he watched his sire cross the room, back and forth. He leveled a gaze at Optimus.

"I do not for one second think this mech volunteered," he said quietly.

"No," Optimus said. His optics were on the Seeker, still and quiet on the berth. "Neither do I."

"We'll be hearing from Vos any minute, though," Ironhide said. He'd squeezed in underneath Optimus's arm, his arms folded unhappily. "Bet you Jazz has beads on agents coming in already, to say nothing of what Prowl and Skids will be hearing about from the delegation. They're real protective of their religious sites."

Ironhide's gaze on Grimlock was all suspicion, clearly wondering how it was he had found his way to Vos's ground-floor temple. Grimlock only shrugged.

"I'll offer you the details in my report," he said. It was going to be a long cycle.

"The hospital in the Primal palace is likely the safest place for your Seeker, Ratchet," Optimus said. "For Grimlock, too. They'll have to return with us."

Before Grimlock could ask, Optimus elaborated. "Whatever happens, Vos is going to demand you be extradited for kidnapping, theft, or whatever it is they will call this. To say nothing of the fact that you were forced to leave your position. On Primal grounds I can guarantee your safety."

Grimlock's engine rumbled before he could think to stop it. He heard Ratchet sigh, but refused to feel guilty about a threat display he couldn't help.

The Prime's optics only glittered. Trust Optimus to be amused right now.

"Doubtless you can take care of yourself," Optimus added. "Politically, though, it is much safer to have you under observation until formal discussions begin. The peace of mind will help."

Grimlock thought of Wheeljack, and took a deep vent in. Yes. He could be under house arrest for a little while, he had expected far worse. He met Ratchet's optics, and his sire offered him a little nod.

"We'll bring the little ones to see you," Ratchet said. Grimlock couldn't help a smile at that, under his mask.

"I'd like that," he said. His voice managed to be warmer.

"Then we'd better head out now," Ironhide said briskly. He glanced Ratchet's way. "We can move your patient, doc?"

Ratchet gave a curt nod. "I'll bring the machines. Grimlock, take the head of his berth and help us transport your charge, then."

Dawn was creeping at the edge of the city, grey and blue, so Ironhide had sent them off at the right time. Grimlock's shuttle would be left here, and he watched Ratchet fuss with the Seeker's medical ports, inputting codes for the journey that he couldn't begin to understand. Ironhide squeezed into the pilot's seat and Optimus sat awkwardly on a too-small bench. Even Primal shuttles were apparently not built for the right size.

Grimlock was in for a miserable time, holed up on palace grounds. A military tribunal would almost certainly be involved, again. Maybe the Vosian peace was worth more than he was.

He looked at the Seeker, though, and couldn't regret his choice.

* * *

"Welcome back, idiot! Working hard?"

Grimlock groaned, and he would have launched his datapad in Swoop's direction if he'd backed up his work recently. He was probably two-thirds through that agonizingly detailed report, determined to get down everything he could remember about the temple, its layout, its items.

"Shouldn't you be at work?" he asked, leaning back in his chair. In public, Swoop was generally a little shy, stood up too straight, and exuded harmless gentleness that belied his powerful alt-mode. Of course most of this was nature, and Grimlock was generally very proud of his sweet, accomplished brother.

When he was alone with his  _ siblings,  _ Swoop was another matter entirely. A lanky, relaxed figure leaned on Grimlock's new desk, grinning at him with the kind of confidence mechs three times his size carried. This  _ was  _ learned, because Swoop was the smallest of all Grimlock's adult siblings. He had to be confident and bratty to keep up with the rest of them, who quite easily used their brawn during teasing or mischief.

"Got a couple days off." Swoop dropped onto the edge of the desk. "I've got free rein to visit my poor captive brother while Vos throws a tantrum."

"So Ratchet told you everything," Grimlock said, a little glumly. Swoop was Ratchet's first carriage, younger only than Grimlock, and a carrier's mech as thoroughly as Grimlock was for Wheeljack.

Swoop beamed. "Of course. You're an idiot and you might start a war, not to mention the  _ drama  _ of what you brought home. Flight sickness sacrifice, honestly!"

Grimlock set the datapad down. Then his face in his hands. "It's not a fragging joke. Did you come here just to make fun of me, or do you actually care about the half dead mech down the hall,  _ doctor? _ "

When he looked back out over his hands, Swoop's smile had slid off. "Of course I  _ care, _ " Swoop said, and shifted closer on the desk. "It's pretty fragged up what's happening, actually, and I was worried about you. You did a  _ stupid  _ thing, but it wasn't the wrong thing. And Carrier told me how you found that mech, so..."

"...Yeah," Grimlock finished. "Yeah, I know. I'd be fragging with you the same way."

Of course Swoop cared. He'd inherited so much of Ratchet's  _ caring too much  _ that he worked primarily with terminals, to either work miracles or help the ones that couldn't make it be comfortable in the end. Swoop would have done the same (though he was smaller than the Seeker, and might not have been able to break the mech out).

The nice thing about Swoop was Grimlock didn't have to be the gentle protector  _ all  _ the time. They were pretty close in age, and most of their siblings had known them only as adults. Swoop  _ was  _ helping in his own strange way by bursting in here to make fun of him, because most people didn't have the bearings. Their other siblings, Grimlock had fed, changed their oil, and put to bed regularly. They might try to mess with him, but Swoop had a certain position.

"Politically," Swoop continued, "you went with the worst possible option. Of course, if you'd gone with the official channels, no doubt they would have hidden that mech away before anyone could come and see. If he's not completely insane by the time he's out of stasis, he can corroborate your story." Swoop looked around appraisingly, before Grimlock could dwell too long on any of that. "Nice place, by the way."

Yes, a Primal apartment was considerably more well-appointed than his small peacetime apartment, or his old officer's quarters on base. Three times as big, with the most expensive energon dispenser Grimlock had ever used, and a spa-style washrack. The windows covered one half of the room, looking out onto the palace gardens and a beautiful balcony. Further out, Iacon glittered, all colour and light. It was the kind of image tourism sites ysed.

The longer Grimlock's border was that garden wall, the more likely  _ he'd  _ be the one going insane here.

"It'll do," Grimlock grunted. He glanced sidelong at his brother. "Gotta admit. I didn't think that flight sickness stuff could be  _ that  _ true for Seekers."

Swoop folded his arms, optics narrowed in thought. "I didn't believe it," he said. "Apparently my grounder parents and my beast mode would make it pretty unlikely to set in, though. I just get kind of pissy and headachey if I don't get to fly for a few days. I probably wouldn't go insane being denied it." His frown deepened. "Don't get me wrong, though. I don't love the thought of being locked and put underground."

"Neither would I," Grimlock said.

They were quiet for a moment. Just as Grimlock opened his mouth to ask Swoop if people were saying anything  _ outside  _ the Primal palace yet, Ratchet appeared. He had been pulled in to work with the Seeker until a proper prognosis could be reached, but Grimlock hadn't seen him since their arrival.

"Ah, I figured you'd be here," he said, in Swoop's direction. "Grimlock. Your rescue is asking for you." Swoop leveled him an interested look, as Grimlock straightened in surprise.

"Me?" Grimlock was surprised that he'd been remembered at all, in such a feverish delirium.

Ratchet rolled his optics. "My  _ other  _ oldest son who the Vosians want immediately extradited. Yes, he's returning to consciousness and is asking for ' _ the fragging dirtkisser who dragged me out.'" _

Swoop looked thoughtful now, and Ratchet seemed to read Grimlock's mind before he spoke again.

"I'd normally not allow it, he's not  _ lucid,  _ but he's thrashing and needs restraints. You might calm him down." With that, Ratchet was gone again, towards the medical wing. He knew his son would have the sense not to argue.

Swoop stood up as Grimlock did, stretching. "I'm going too. If Carrier wants to send me away, he can."

_ Like you'd listen.  _ Grimlock couldn't imagine how it was he would  _ calm him down, _ in the state he had been in when Grimlock had dragged him into the shuttle. The mech had fought as best he could (poorly, weaker than Grimlock's sparkling brothers), and captive or not had made it clear how he felt about his rescuer. A thank you, maybe, if he wasn't completely insane from his so-called flight sickness. And well after his recovery, when he was fit for visitors. The mech probably had family looking for him, a thought that made Grimlock's spark roll uncomfortably.

Or maybe not, which was even worse. Maybe they knew, and had sent their son to this.

It wasn't far to the medical wing. When you were a Prime or Protector, even your doctor's office got to be aesthetically pleasing. Uncomfortably beautiful, even, and he knew some previous Prime must have appointed it. Optimus himself still got awkward when he was offered the good chair.

They knew which room must hold the Seeker, because of the muffled commotion coming from behind the door. Grimlock didn't bother to knock, and hit the access button to step inside.

Two obviously long-suffering nurses were holding the Seeker down, as Pharma worked to return tubes and wires to their various ports and Ratchet stopped the leaking. It seemed their guest wasn't taking kindly to his treatment. Assuming he knew what was happening to him, of course.

Pharma was murmuring in a language Grimlock didn't understand, but he recognized as Vosian. The Seeker's wild optics, which hadn't settled on Grimlock yet, found Pharma instead. The mech  _ hissed,  _ but Pharma barely flinched. Grimlock had to give him his due, when he was under pressure.

Ratchet's optics were sharp on Swoop, but he said nothing to him. Instead he turned to the Seeker, as the mech twisted and squirmed.

"Well, your dirtkisser is here," he said. For a moment Grimlock was worried the mech wouldn't understand--many conservative Vosians refused to speak anything but their tongue. The closest language on Cybertron left to what had been Primal Vernacular, and very much unlike modern Neocybex.

No, he realized. Of course the mech knew Standard, he'd understood enough to hurl insults in Grimlock's face as long he could on the trip out.

Which indicated  _ some  _ sanity. They would have to wait on that to find out, since this Seeker certainly didn't  _ look  _ sane right now.

The Seeker's optics rested on Grimlock then. Just as wild and intense as when he had first met them, flaring almost white as they seemed to adjust to what he was seeing.

"--Dared to touch me," was what he managed to get out. He sounded like he'd been swallowing glass shards. "Dirt kissing beast."

Grimlock stiffened. He felt Swoop ruffle up next him, and out of the corner of his optic Ratchet tensed.

Therein lied one of Grimlock's upcoming problems, didn't it? Not only had he insulted the Vosians and apparently their religion, but he had done so in an impulsive way. Acting on his instincts. Some Functionists still put a lot of stock into those  _ beastly  _ traits.

Naturally it was a sore spot.

"You're welcome," was what Grimlock decided to say. "For getting you out of there."

The Seeker tried to shove forward, though at this angle and after struggling all this time he made little progress. His mouth curled into a snarl, apparently about to growl something else out at his rescuer (the reason he was not  _ purging under a temple  _ right now), but his helm twisted. Towards the wall, where a window let in a shaft of light.

Only now did Grimlock see the mech's optics brighten without rage. With what seemed to be new strength, he twisted out of one nurse's grasp and nearly clattered off the berth.

"Hey,  _ hey!"  _ Ratchet snapped, struggling to help get a hold. "You're in a bad way, kid!"

"The  _ window!"  _ the Seeker screamed, with renewed vigor. " _ The sky, wind on my wings and my face--" _

"Restraints," Ratchet barked, and the thrown-off nurse raced to attach them. "We're moving the berth, Pharma?"

Grimlock was almost surprised to see him give into a patient so quickly, when the mech was clearly in such a bad state.  _ Sedation  _ would have been what he expected, when this mech had gone hysterical, actually clawing scratches into the berth.

Pharma had already started moving machines, along with the thrashing mech's berth. Grimlock watched him shift where wires were plugged in, so the berth could actually rest against the sill, and immediately the mech had pushed himself forward again, pressing his cheek to the pane of glass. He watched his wings quiver weakly, and his optics soften. The effect had been so immediate that it stood Grimlock like a sculpture.

The Seeker's vents were still ragged, though, and it was like the sky had sapped his strength. The mech didn't even seem to care others were in the room any longer, optics trained on outside.

Pharma checked the lock on the window (sensible) before nodding curtly at Grimlock and Swoop. "Thank you," he said, already looking back at his patient. His Vosian accent, usually almost untraceable, seemed to be easier to hear. "But you'd better go now."

They didn't wait for Ratchet to shoo them out too. They were silent on the way back, Grimlock's clanging steps paired with Swoop's swifter ones.

"I think," Swoop said carefully. "I'm glad I'm not a Seeker after all. All the benefits of flying, without the crazy."

Grimlock wondered if he'd beg for the ground that way, if someone found a way to capture him and keep him floating, away from home. More likely he'd go insane from missing his family first--his alt mode was who he was, but not really what he could do with it. Other things, tied to his spark, were his priority.

"That mech's gaze is clear," he said after a moment. "You think he's insane?"

Swoop snorted. "You kidding? Of course he is, you saw all that. That's what flight sickness must do to them."

Grimlock hummed, but he didn't know if he agreed. The desperation only really came when it seemed he had access to the air, but was being kept away. He had fight in him, that was for sure.

And had the same nasty view of beast modes everyone else seemed to, so Grimlock shouldn't feel sorry for him. Relief that the Seeker had a window, could look out at the clouds and stars, settled on his spark anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The response to this has blown me away so far, it's so appreciated! I think Tuesday and Friday will be our update days.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the cell, it seemed his brain module had taken over without any thought to those concerns. Whenever he drifted off, Starscream saw sky, clouds, Vos's gleaming towers below him. Like his own mind was trying to carve out a simulator for him, knowing there would be nothing better.

Starscream had not really dreamed before they'd taken him. He had considered it something of a weakness to have his processor occupied during defrag, when one could be properly refreshing themselves for the rest of the cycle. He had rolled his optics in the morning at whatever stupid thing Skywarp had flown with, fought, or fragged during recharge.

In the cell, it seemed his brain module had taken over without any thought to those concerns. Whenever he drifted off, Starscream saw sky, clouds, Vos's gleaming towers below him. Like his own mind was trying to carve out a simulator for him, knowing there would be nothing better.

The days he could keep himself occupied--taunting guards, yelling expletives, trying to cause damage--the sky was simply on the edge of his consciousness. When no one was down there, his rebellions had begun to feel pointless, an _infuriating_ thought in his determination to survive. On those days he'd simply offline his optics and try to piece together his dreams again. His memories.

He had broken a bar himself once, hope thrilling his spark at the time. This was when the flight lock had been installed and sedation first used, and he had not been able to break anything again. Apparently a simple clamp on one's wings was enough to leech strength like a parasitic creature.

This had been concerning. Starscream's long hours alone had meant _too much_ time to think, and he'd started to wonder if he was going insane now. Maybe the flight sickness was setting in this way, through the dreams rather than migraines. His brain module building a world more palatable to his frame.

The despair, the rage of this, had been when he'd started to get sick. And to Starscream's fury and hate, no matter what the priest's doctors did, or how much he _tried_ to rest, he couldn't push past it. The fevers, the pain, the purging. He was no longer strong enough to break out.

He wasn't sure when exactly this had happened. The first vorn he'd scratched onto the wal in neat lines, organized by weeks. At some point early in the second year he had been delirious and forgotten. His chronometer had been unreliable ever since, and no amount of self-coding seemed to fix its errors. A new year's mass here, a holy day offering there, would get him back in place. Every time, some stupid dizzy spell or rust infection knocked him flat again.

Starscream was better than this, he knew. A genius, greatest flier of his generation, and he'd lost track of the _days?_ He really was beyond hope, then. The walls had closed in, curled around his frame to squeeze and press and remind him the sky was _never_ his again.

Except.

The "holy doctors" looked nervously into his optics, because they weren't blank. The high priest, on his visits, always met his gaze steadily, but Starscream saw that he was unsettling him too. He heard the guards talk, and knew they were wary of him. He spent more time alone down there as the months dragged on, the meagre lights dimmed.

"He should be with Primus now," he heard one saying to a priest. That didn't mean dead--his predecessor had been down here tens of thousands of vorns. From the sounds of it Thruster had clocked out of using his processor roughly half a vorn in, and had spent most of his time seated with his forehead against a wall. He had drunk energon brought to him, accepted medical treatment, and recharged on his berth if pointed there, but he had not been a functioning mech any longer. From the sounds of it, this was what Starscream had been expected to be, too.

No, Starscream was not with Primus. If he had his way, he'd go to the Pit first anyway, and take the high priest and all his mechs along with him.

The _really_ worrying part, the thing that clawed at his mind when he tried to recharge for some of his time...was that it might be better, to have gone the way of Thruster. Peaceful, painless. Starscream fought and fought, not quite possible to truly break. And every minute awake had been a nightmare.

The last little while was hard to remember, but Starscream guessed it was the severity of his latest infection that had done it. He had worried flight sickness was finally digging in, but he'd been able to bite and kick when dragged to the bars, only resting when sedated. The smell of purged energon and the musty temple had mixed clearly in his mind, contrasted harsher than ever with the sky he knew his captors enjoyed. He hoped they'd crash, that their wings would break off and _their_ flight sickness would be slow too.

The most infuriating thing about the memory problems was he had eventually been _rescued._ This had not been a dream, even if his processor hadn't been sure immediately. He had been brought out by some huge grounder, and he _couldn't remember a thing._

Oh, he knew the dirtkisser who had done it. Apparently _that_ had stuck. But how it had happened, if they had spoken, if there had been trouble on the way...Starscream knew none of this.

When he next felt like himself, he had had one cheek smashed up against glass, sun on his face. His HUD had still screamed orange warnings, but he was no longer confused and critical. A cloud, illuminated by the city was floating peacefully by on the horizon.

Sky. Wind. Sun.

To his mortification, it had made him _cry,_ and his view had been blurred by the coolant spilling from his optics. He was _Starscream,_ and all he was getting back was what he deserved. No tears were needed. He was above that.

But peace settled in his spark.

Well, peace had settled for roughly two minutes, before Starscream had had enough and found the window lock. Fumbling, he was annoyed to find it digital, and he would have to hack it to get through--

"You're not ready for that."

Starscream's instinct upon hearing Vosian was to hiss, and wasn't _that_ a nice parting gift from the priests. A hand pushed him back down, and to his horror he wasn't strong enough to shove against it. There were restraints on him too, though they let him sit up to reach the window.

Starscream tried to look cool and appraising. He probably looked sick and miserable, but it had been worth a shot to feel like himself. The mech before him was definitely Vosian, a less conventional Seeker frame with wings off his shoulders and a chevron. A doctor, obvious from the red-and-white paint job and the chevron.

"Continuing your cruelties?" Starscream rasped. He sounded like he'd been swallowing fiberglass. "Letting me see what I cannot have."

The doctor looked sympathetic, mouth a thin line, and Starscream wanted to punch him for the nerve. "If I could let you up there now, I would," he said. "As it stands, you can't even walk. My name is Pharma, and you're being treated in the Primal palace of Iacon."

The _Primal palace?_

"I'm in another hemisphere?" Starscream said. "That mech--"

"Was our military liaison," Pharma said. "And you'll find no love of Vos or the people who hurt you from me, so you can drop the hissing."

"Vos is my home," was all Starscream could think to say at first. Stupid! He would need to overcome a little fever and delirium now more than ever.

Pharma snorted. "Our home will put you back in a box and me in chains the moment you return, and you know this. Congratulations on your new status, by the way. You're the Prime and Protector's honoured guest."

Starscream huffed. He had had enough of being honoured anything for a lifetime...but those two mechs were most powerful on the entire planet. His head throbbed thinking about how his situation had changed so suddenly. Once again he had had nothing to do with any of it.

"What have our dear old priests said about my...stepping down, then?" Starscream asked. Pharma sighed.

"Naturally demanded your return, speaking of how you'll suffer at the hands of grounders. They'd also like your rescuer immediately extradited."

"To never be seen again," Starscream mumbled. "Pharma, the date."

"It's fourth cycle 012," Pharma said. "New year's is around the corner."

"I'll fly before the year is out," Starscream said firmly. It didn't matter how his vision was darkening at the edges, or how his head throbbed. How his wings didn't feel like his.

"You won't," Pharma said, and Starscream hated the note of sympathy. "Until your readings are something like clear, you can only see and feel the air from here. You're already a medical marvel."

"Ha!" Starscream snapped. His voicebox ached. "A marvel, you say? They tried to drag me to my grave!"

"Yes," Pharma said, very seriously. "Because you were not their quiet sacrifice. Medically speaking, you should not be talking to me right now. You shouldn't care to know the date, or where you are. I might have expected you to turn your head towards a window in whatever care home you would end up being stuck in."

Horror rippled through Starscream's spark, and he tried to detach himself from it. "You put me anywhere and I'll tear out your spark."

"And that's how I know you have a shot," Pharma said. He sounded pleased about it. "No Seeker has ever recovered from a bout of flight sickness that lasted longer than one year, let alone one caused underground in a windowless room. You are the first."

Of course, Starscream wanted to say. I am remarkable! Why else would they want me so thoroughly ended?

Instead, he lay back slowly, the darkness on the edge of his vision closing in.

"I should warn you that I will only get more remarkable with recovery," he said. "My name is Starscream."

"Well, Starscream, I've overtaxed you," Pharma said. "Once again your readings are dismal, and you should rest."

"I am going to tell the Prime the darkest details," Starscream said. He knew his voice sounded faraway now. "I will have the sweetest revenge. I'll spill everything that city hoped...hoped to hide."

"Of course," said Pharma. Starscream heard him press a button somewhere on the machine, and a fuzz flooded his systems. He was too tired to care. "Recharge now."

Starscream did.

* * *

When he next onlined it was night. The medical wing he was in was quiet, and Starscream's head no longer swum as it had talking to Pharma.

Unfortunately, he suspected doing anything he wanted to do would change that quickly. He wanted a _bath,_ for one, to scrape the refuse and rust off his frame, get painted and polished. Then he wanted to strut out onto a balcony (no railings, of course), and leap into the air, transforming gracefully just as his freefall began. He would soar above the clouds, joy glowing in his spark.

And he would turn straight for Vos, to carpet-bomb the old temple into a flattened heap.

Starscream knew he wouldn't even make it to the transformation part, assuming his legs didn't betray him. Still, maybe he could find a more appropriate window than this slit of a thing. A breath of _fresh_ air on his face would do him wonders. What a shame he couldn't remember being brought out of the temple--he must have had to go outdoors at some point.

He sat up carefully, ready to swing his legs over the medical berth's edge, when he felt a tug.

Yes. The restraints.

"Fraggit all," he muttered. Of course, Iacon's soft-sparked staff had made the mistake of leaving Starscream's hands almost untouched, only loosely bound to his berth. And given that these locks were medical supplies and he was not criminal, in all likelihood they'd be manual and he could pick them.

With a claw, Starscream set to work on his left thigh. To his annoyance it was tougher than expected--Primal quality, or something--and he had several stops and starts. Frag the priests for their sealed, solid tomb, because if they'd done one thing right it was leave Starscream _nothing_ to work with getting out. Maybe they had known he was multi-skilled before he was taken? Primus knew a lock had never stopped him in school.

An unsettling thought. Eventually Starscream clicked it open, smirking with pleasure. The other was even easier, his wrist restraints wriggled out of, and he was free. Iacon had awfully shoddy security, then, because he couldn't exactly call himself _on his game_. To say nothing of Starscream, what if Vosian agents found themselves in here? Where was the Lord High Protector's so-touted military power patrolling the place? The planet's leaders had many enemies, and Vosians weren't even in the top ten.

He placed one foot gingerly on the floor, then the other. Then he unhooked his tubes, pinched them off, and pulled out the wires. He could sit up without vertigo, so far so good, and now he just had to stand himself up...

...and immediately clattered to the floor, on his knees. Starscream dropped forward on his hands before he could fall to his side, and grit his dentae. Fraggit all, then. He'd explore like this. He could handle a few red warnings and a little pain.

What exactly Starscream was looking for yet, he had not decided. Ideally he was on a ground floor somewhere (imagine him, thinking that sentence!) and he could at least get _outside_ briefly into the wind. He might even recite some of that stupid old poetry, about the moonlight glimmering off the first flier's wings. That was really the point he had fallen to.

Carefully, optics searching for medical staff, he crawled towards his room's exit. A low-lit hallway greeted him, columned in the Primal style, and he decided on going left. He flung his wings out clumsily, an effort to keep his balance, and plodded along the hallway in the least dignified way he had ever moved.

No matter. Once Starscream got a little air and moonlight, he could bring himself back in, maybe even before someone noticed he had left the medical wing. Of course they'd see that he had unhooked himself, but that was an easy enough fix. Perhaps instead of being re-restrained he could get some guards to annoy instead, too. He shuffled down the hall, not in a particularly straight line as he stopped against walls here and there. His head was swimming again, but it was only for a minute, only enough to get his bearings enough to see where he was in here, exactly--

\-- _CLANG._

"Ow!" Apparently, Starscream was clumsier than he thought, because he had hit a wall. He looked up, to turn himself, and saw...the huge beast-mech. His rescuer.

The red visor stared down at him from above a broad yellow chest, and Starscream could see how the claws mounted on his back gleamed. Most of him was deep grey, military-looking. The mech bent down, and he was so broad and tall that it seemed like it took an eternity. Starscream attempted to get up, his vision grayed, and a huge hand caught him. It would have circled his waist if the mech had tried.

"You should be in bed," the mech. His voice was deep and rumbling. Starscream detected alarm. "You can't even walk."

"I'm fine," Starscream hissed, wriggling. "Now you let go of me, just--"

Between the mech's arm and his frame, Starscream could catch sight of the end of this hallway. Light gleamed in. Moonlight, and even in his state he could see how the window ran floor to ceiling.

"What's that behind you?" he asked, sharply. He dug claws into the mech's arm, who grunted, but didn't budge. He tilted his head at Starscream.

"My...room?" he asked. He glanced over his shoulder, out at that beautiful window. The stupid lug probably had a _balcony,_ and what good would it do him? There was probably no one planted more firmly on the ground than this mech.

Starscream's spark felt like it would snap and twist. "And why do _you_ get the sky?! I'm stuck with that slit and you have _all that?_ Take me to it!"

The mech stared at him. Then he moved to pick Starscream up, and he flailed. Quite uselessly, to his fury, the beast-mech seemed to be made of solid steel the way he stood.

"I didn't carry you out of Vos for you to die crawling around in a hallway," he said. Starscream swore he heard _"or ruin my own life,"_ but he was too busy trying to scale the mech's shoulder and get towards the window. When he succeeded in nicking the mech's visor a few steps in, he paused. His shoulders sagged and his visor flickered, like he was wrestling with something. He held Starscream out, as if he weighed nothing.

"Look," he sighed. "The doctors told me air and sky is good for you. You're just very ill. If I take you to my windows for a minute, will you just go back to berth?"

"Yes," Starscream said immediately, not caring if he actually did it or not. "Yes, I'll do it, just let me see!"

He hated to beg, to be so _desperate,_ but what else could he do? He was half dead, had nothing, and was entirely reliant on others for his health and comfort. At least he could order people about again, if this mech's acquiescence was any indication. The mech shifted Starscream in his grip, and it wasn't far down the hall into the spacious room.

This was more like the kind of place Starscream had grown up in, tasteful decoration and plush berthcovers. He wondered if it was the condition he was in, or if he really didn't belong to such spaces any more. He would be surprised if this mech had always been part of such a noble class. He only swept the room once with his gaze, zeroing in right away on the window. Yes, a beautiful balcony! With a railing, far too close to the ground, but easy enough to bypass for flight. He wriggled again, and the mech's grip tightened.

"Your system is overheated," he was saying, as the window got closer. "I'm not kidding about only giving you a minute, so enjoy it."

Instantly, Starscream pressed himself to the glass. Cool like the night, and he could just imagine how the night air would feel on his face. On his desperate wings. At some point the flight lock had come off, and they were starting to feel right again, lightened. He splayed his hands out against the glass, feeling it press hard on his cockpit.

"This is terrible for you," the mech said. "You're shivering."

"I'm _not,_ " Starscream hissed, hearing his teeth chatter. "This is _right_ where I need to be. Let me on the balcony."

"What? No!"

"Yes!" Starscream snapped, trying to twist his frame out of the mech's grasp. "Just a moment, just a _moment!_ You think I'm flying anywhere?"

His engines revved excitedly at the thought anyway, but from their rattle Starscream could tell he really wasn't moving. He felt the big mech pause, and heard his sigh. He didn't glance around to look at him, because the moon was so visible tonight, resting above a cloud and glittering with light from its mines. Soon Starscream would take his rightful place high up again. He was only reminding the sky he was here.

Too soon, infuriatingly so, the mech was pulling him back. Starscream opened his mouth to shriek, and just as soon a huge hand had covered most of his face. He _bit_ instead, and the huge mech only stiffened. How annoying.

Worse still that his warnings were more red than orange again, the colour blooming out onto his HUD.

"You're an idiot for doing that," the mech said, his steps quick as they left again. "I'm the bigger idiot for letting you."

Starscream was dropped back onto his medical berth, not un-gently, and through his warnings he watched the mech stare hopelessly at the machines.

"The flightless aren't known for their good decisions," Starscream said. He tried to sound light about it, and not like he wanted to purge.

"Well, you'd know," snapped the mech, and shocked Starscream into silence. "When you get in the air again, regale me of your genius."

Then he hit the call button, turned, and walked right back out.

Starscream almost followed--the mech hadn't refastened his restraints, after all. But his reflexes had slowed again, and he was lying on his back with swimming vision when a nurse burst in.

"By Primus," snapped the mech. "What's happened _here?_ "

Starscream had opened his mouth to blame his rescuer, but he didn't feel words form on his vocalizer. After that, things were hazy.

This weakness would be the _first_ thing to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not even severe neglect and illness can keep Starscream from being the most frustrating person alive


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grimlock thought of the easy weight of the Seeker--Starscream--in his arms. How he'd called him a beast, when the mech had been the one to act like it. How he'd twisted and clawed and insulted him the whole time Grimlock acquiesced to his demands...
> 
> ...and how his gaze had changed once it was on the moon outside. How fascinating it had been to see the shift, and how Grimlock had almost opened the balcony door for him.

Predictably, Ratchet and Pharma found out.

"You didn't carry him  _ right back to berth _ ?" Ratchet exclaimed. Grimlock only flinched a little, having become used to his sire's disappointed astonishment. Lately he seemed to just keep earning it.

"Seeker's ornery," was what Grimlock said, as Ratchet rolled his optics. He noticed that Pharma was quiet, either a very good or thoroughly bad sign. "He would have screamed and fought worse if I had, which would have  _ really  _ spiked his readings. All he asked was to look out the window, anyway."

"He's not wrong," Pharma said, and Ratchet huffed in disgust.

"The stupid mech is lucky he's a medical marvel," he said. He'd begun to pace again. "And  _ you,  _ Grimlock, you're lucky Megatron is sire-brained right now. You're already one step from another court martial, and now you're carrying around our patient? I haven't figured out if it'll go better or worse if that Seeker dies!"

Grimlock tried not to smile. Even under the mask, Ratchet would know. Protector Consort Cosmos was carrying again, which meant Megatron and Soundwave were as out of commission as two remarkable mechs could be. Having a Lord High Protector and a spymaster tied to the same romantic triad was probably unwise administratively, but Optimus had left unhappy political unions in the past. Said powerful mechs were permitted to nest with, fuss over, and interface their lover to their sparks' content. Right now, it was to Grimlock's benefit that their military leader was so obsessed with worshiping his minibot. It meant Megatron's optic would be off him awhile longer.

"I did what I could," Grimlock said, and meant it. "Sorry he's worse off again. I do think you should let him get some real air somewhere. He doesn't strike me as the sort to learn his lesson."

"You're not his doctor," Ratchet said, still pacing. "And you're one to talk, about learning lessons!"

Pharma was looking at his folded hands, still quiet. That would annoy Ratchet later, all of Pharma's prim Vosian coolness compared to his fireball spark. He probably preferred Pharma when the mech had lost his temper

"I don't think Grimlock is wrong," he said finally. Ratchet paused. "No, Starscream can't go out  _ now,  _ he needs a couple more days to get better readings. But he should sun outside. This is a kind of long-term, severe flight sickness we have little understanding of, compared to the usual outcomes, and he's not making sensible decisions in order to get that air."

Grimlock tried to bite his smile back down. "I have to wonder about his decisions even when he's back to his former self, from what I've seen."

Pharma smirked. "Yes," he said. "Somehow I doubt our guest was gentle and polite in his regular life. I'm sure that sort of spark kept him going."

"Even laid up in his condition he needs staff to monitor him," Ratchet said. "If we're letting him outside, and his thrusters pick that day to remember how to work again...I hate to keep restraining him, but he's leaving us few choices."

Grimlock thought of the easy weight of the Seeker--Starscream--in his arms. How he'd called him a beast, when the mech had been the one to act like it. How he'd twisted and clawed and insulted him the whole time Grimlock acquiesced to his demands...

...and how his gaze had changed once it was on the moon outside. How fascinating it had been to see the shift, and how Grimlock had almost opened the balcony door for him.

Being an older brother had made him much too soft.

"I'm holed up just outside the medical wing," Grimlock said. His sire and Pharma both turned to him in surprise. "Why not put him on my balcony?"

When Ratchet looked tired, and Pharma furrowed his brows in surprise, Grimlock quickly went on. "I'm strong enough--and have the reflexes--to keep him from doing something foolish. You can leave a nurse there too to monitor vitals if you must. I wouldn't be bothered about following his progress.  _ And  _ I submitted my report. I have nothing better to do."

He expected his sire to call him an idiot, and Pharma to sniff and explain why such a thing simply wasn't possible right now. Pharma's narrowed optics could mean a couple of things, and he could tell Ratchet was looking for other options.

"It's kind of you, son," Ratchet said after a moment. "But it's not necessary. This is a huge palace, there's no shortage of staff to keep their optic on him."

"Not to be rude about the mech I rescued, but he's full of unkind words," Grimlock said. "I don't necessarily blame him after that ordeal, but you might as well subject me to it instead of more guards and your staff. And if his condition drops, you're all right down the hall. He was begging me to go out on that balcony."

"We'll have to run it by the Prime," Pharma said. He had straightened up, and Grimlock watched him cross the room. "Honestly, your involvement should have ended with the rescue. But I don't want more escape incidents, and you're not wrong about the location."

"So you'll let him?" Ratchet asked.

"If the Prime agrees." When Pharma looked at Grimlock again, there was a small smile on his face. "The hardest part will be listening to him, I imagine."

"Grimlock," Ratchet added. He braced himself, but his sire's optics weren't reproachful. "You don't have to tolerate nonsense about  _ beasts  _ from him," he said. He was smiling a little, too. "You more than gave that mech his life back, and you don't owe him extra chances."

Grimlock nodded. No, he had not forgotten those words, or what they meant in sick delirium. Mechs were often most honest incapacitated. "I won't, sire. Thank you."

He would probably regret this, the moment that screeching Seeker opened his mouth. When he'd gone back to his room he stepped out onto the balcony, one he'd paid little mind to so far in the apartment. It was big enough to entertain a small party, with seating around a low table and potted crystals along the railing. It looked out onto the gardens, and right now he could see consort Skids chasing one of the little Primal heirs. Bumblebee, he recognized from a distance. Very sweet, that one, and wouldn't have to worry about much but staying that way. What a lucky thing, to be a sparkling. Happy to play and not know how many people outside that wall wanted your sire's Matrix and worse. He could hear the giggles as Skids cornered Bumblebee, then scooped him up,and Grimlock felt a sudden pang for his little siblings. Maybe his parents could bring them if he asked, when Wheeljack visited. Primus knew he could use more company.

Iacon was beyond that wall, towering spires and raised highways, busy as ever. In their schedule gaps, they were probably watching the Vosian delegations demand their religious figure back on the vidscreens. Grimlock hadn't bothered to turn on much of the news, because when he did he watched the parts about Vos on repeat.

The sky was clear that day. He tried to look up at it, and feel the wind thoroughly, the way the Seeker so clearly could. It was a nice view, to be sure, but his frame didn't ache for it. The view in Vos was similar (Seekers would say otherwise), but obviously Grimlock wasn't coded to need such things. Swoop sung flying's praises, and little Blades wanted desperately to do it one day too. Grimlock liked being firm on the ground, a pillar. Immovable.

Really, there was nothing further from a Seeker than him. Had it really been wise to send him to Vos in the end?

There would be no point in asking.

* * *

Thanks to Starscream's little adventure, he was now monitored day and night by Primal staff. He recalled this had been his end goal, but his head ached too much to do much more than whine and try to get comfortable. Very irritating, to have little energy for anything but recharge. It felt like the cell all over again, window or not.

"You've relapsed," said Pharma grimly. His doctor narrowed his optics at something on the monitor. "If you do that again there's no guarantees I can re-stabilize your spark. Are we clear?"

Starscream tried to be unmoved, knowing full well his voice right now was a wheeze. "I am the picture of health."

"And I'm a Tarnish gladiator," Pharma said. He sighed, and Starscream  _ hated  _ his sympathy. "I want you in the air. I really do. You won't be if you keep up with these stunts."

Starscream's voice went flat. "And I'll die if you keep me here, doctor."

"Actually," Pharma said. "Today I have a little incentive for you. Your rescuer has graciously offered his balcony for you to sun on and enjoy the air, while you get your strength back. You'll need to be monitored, of course, and have a certain proportion of good readings--"

Starscream sat up, or he tried to. Pain bloomed in his helm and he was forced to lie back down, under Pharma's reproachful look. "The balcony? The one wasted on a dirtkisser?"

"Now listen, " Pharma sighed. "Grimlock offered, but I seriously doubt it'll stand if you keep that up. I've lived in Iacon a long time, and they're no different than us."

This was hard to believe for Starscream. Like most of his people he hadn't left the city in his formative years, and only would have studied abroad for his more specialized education. He had been denied this, naturally, and therefore had grown up sure in his thoughts about ground-bound Cybertronians. He looked critically at Pharma.

"I'll take your word for it," he said, and the doctor sighed.

"Anyway," Pharma said. "I'll let Grimlock know you  _ graciously  _ thanked him for the opportunity. He won't believe me, though, he's heard plenty from you."

"You're a real piece of work for a doctor," Starscream said. He had flung one arm over his optics.

"It takes one to know one."

Apparently the antiviral patches had begun working, because his temperature went down in another day or so. Starscream itched from the rust in his inner systems as it sloughed, and felt  _ disgusting,  _ but no he longer swayed with the need to purge. He stayed put, too, admitting to himself that the thought of a balcony under open sky made him burst with relief and joy. If he were to heal up in here like he'd promised, he was one step closer to being airborne.

Of course it was while he looked and felt like slag, he thought, that Optimus Prime came to visit him.

A grounder, flanked by the Grimlock mech Starscream was now acquainted with. Starscream got a small, awkward nod from him, then glanced over at a dumpy red guard and the doorwinged model to the Prime's right. A cheap imitation of  _ Starscream's  _ looks if you asked him, and that red chevron was doing nothing for the mech. The Prime was predictably huge and broad, but even politely stepped back Grimlock stood taller.

"Starscream," rumbled the Prime, voice surprisingly gentle coming from that frame. It made Starscream uncomfortable, because it would be harder to spar with it. "I'm pleased to see you looking better. Thank you for seeing me today."

_ As if I had a choice.  _ Starscream tried to sit up and look imperious, like he was the ruler being humoured. For a groundpounder, Optimus was impressive, but he supposed the Matrix could improve anything.

"You've been hospitable, and it's not a cell," Starscream said. "It's appreciated. What do you want?"

Optimus seemed unbothered. Grimlock made a noise that sounded like a cough, Doorwings frowned, and the dumpy guard looked offended for all of them.

"My aim was to speak with you and ensure you're as comfortable as you can be," he said. "I understand it's still difficult at this time, unable to access the air."

"An understatement," Starscream sighed. "I'll manage, thank you. Your friend's offered me his balcony to sun on, though you gr--Iaconians use too many railings."

"Yes," dumpy guard said dryly. "Many sparklings live on palace grounds, and it can be an issue if one toddles off a balcony to their death."

"We will discuss a temporary accommodation for this, when you're cleared for flight," Optimus said. He glanced at his guard, a look that clearly indicated he had been sarcastic enough. "I'm sure it would be easier for takeoff."

"Obviously," Starscream said. It was enjoyable, ruffling these foreigners. Certainly a distraction from being ill and crushed with loneliness indoors. "But no matter for now. How has my home city taken my disappearance, then? I'm sure a tantrum is brewing."

Optimus's optics twinkled. Apparently something about this was funny. "The high priest Cloudburst demands the return of their...'blessed volunteer.' Sanctions have been made, and most unhappily unrest is occurring in Vos."

"Apparently not everyone is keen on your sacrificial custom," Doorwings said. A cool voice, calculating optics. He'd be fun to ruffle. "The remainder demand you back too. Admittedly, I am less versed in the complexities of Vosian religion than I would like to be for the situation."

"Lucky for you, you're in the presence of an expert," Starscream said. He raised his chin up, and it didn't matter  _ why _ he was an expert. "It's not as if I was provided entertainment down there, you know. Vosians are told the flightless one is a  _ volunteer,  _ sacrificing themselves so their people can fly freely and prosper. If you want the gritty details, I've got those too."

"An interview can be conducted at a later date," Optimus said. "When you're stronger."

Enough of being told how weak he was! Starscream made an effort to straighten out his wings as best he could. To look dignified and ready for anything,  _ especially  _ if someone happened to pick up on just how much the medical bay's walls always seemed to close in.

"I want a public interview," he said. "Now, actually. Air it everywhere. Tell  _ everyone  _ what it is the Vosians did to me, not just whatever version you'll stick into your reports."

"You're not strong enough for that," Pharma started to say, and Starscream raised his hand. Pharma paused, but didn't look happy about it. Doorwings looked  _ especially  _ displeased, but Starscream didn't care what people with bad taste thought.

"Strong enough for what, sitting in berth and talking?" he asked. "I'm doing it right now. Cut it short if you must, but if you're going to pick my processor, let's embarrass my captors.  _ You  _ won't get the answers you want from books and officials," he added, turning towards Doorwings. "Ask your Vosian doctor here how I know. We keep our mouths shut about our workings to the planet at large."

To his pleasure, Pharma looked distinctly uncomfortable. The Prime looked distressed, soft sparked as he must be.

"He's not wrong," Pharma said. "When I moved, though, I explained much of what I knew."

"An interview can be arranged," Prime said finally. "Prowl," he said, addressing Doorwings. Decent name, for a grounder. "Jazz's people, then yours, will vet any interviewers who would broadcast to the holoscreens. The security situation is currently delicate. Ironhide, you will observe all interactions, in order to protect our charge."

Dumpy--Ironhide--looked unhappy about this, and Starscream's spark curled in distaste. So many grounders, so close to him! And knowing there was nothing for it than to simply get used to it. Grimlock looked guilty, probably because he had helped Starscream disrupt the entire balance of international security.

"You Primal mechs and your babysitting," Starscream said. "Fine. Whatever you need. But I want it public, in  _ my  _ own words. No one will twist them."

Prowl coughed. "While your safety is one of our priorities," he said, "The number of bomb threats since you arrived has tripled. Please understand the extra precautions are for  _ everyone's  _ physical safety."

Starscream smiled. "I  _ do  _ make a scene, don't I?"

If the look Prowl gave him could have turned mechs to stone, Starscream guessed he might not have been immune. No matter, he could deal perfectly well with uppity, poor taste-addled grounders. Mech was probably a  _ cop,  _ too.

"Feel better, Starscream," Optimus sighed. Starscream had exhausted him, to a worse degree than he felt himself. It was a pleasing thought. "We do have one more question, one we should have asked earlier. Is there a next of kin to contact for you, Starscream? I understand trines are a common unit in Vos."

Starscream smiled. He did this because it was easy, and the two knives in his spark ached too hard to think about. They wouldn't want to see him this way, he guessed. They'd look on him with the same kind of pity the rest of Vos would, but it wasn't as if he'd ever cared what anyone else Vos ever thought. This was revenge on his enemies, nothing more. Those mechs could find a better trine, one with an untouched flier. Who, frankly, would be better tempered than Starscream anyway.

"My sire passed two vorns ago," Starscream said. He had hardly known the mech, raised by nurses and boarding school, so this had not particularly bothered him. "I imagine that's the real reason our sacred priests volunteered me. I was heir to several estates and large bank accounts, which I'm sure you'll find wiped. I have a couple cousins, don't bother to contact them."

"I see," Optimus said. His pitying gaze was infuriating, but this was one grounder Starscream could only push so far. "Thank you regardless. You'll be informed of the time for your interview."

"See you, then," said Grimlock, surprising him. Starscream supposed he would, since Grimlock had volunteered his balcony. Starscream waggled his fingers, but didn't return the goodbye as the little party left. Pharma was quiet checking his readings, but he could hardly be blamed this time.

Vos had not collapsed without their volunteer being gone, of course. Torturing one mech could not affect the city in such a way, only the poor Seeker unlucky enough to be chosen. But every Vosian knew, really, what was supposed to guarantee their prosperity.

And as soon as Starscream had found out about it, as all young Vosians did, he had said  _ thank Primus it isn't me.  _ He'd taken off for a flight, and only pondered it again vorns later, underground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Starscream is here to cause problems on purpose (I think I could post this in every note and I would be right)
> 
> So are Megatron and Soundwave tbh, since they're on parental leave during a massive planetary crisis


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wheeljack's hand squeezed his, a little too hard. Grimlock knew he was thinking of that, too. Unless everything was magically dropped from concern and Vos gave up, there'd be charges again. Not even Optimus's kindness and care for his fellow mechs could keep Grimlock from taking any fall. Vos was too important a city to sanction, and was frankly their biggest military spender. Cybertron could not afford what Grimlock had just done.

"...and I figured you'd be lonely," Wheeljack said. He was holding First Aid on his hip, but Grimlock almost hadn't heard his carrier over the ruckus of sparklings rushing him from the doorway. "The kids have been asking for big brother since you got in."

Grimlock could tell. Groove had nuzzled against his middle as soon as he was lifted, as if he was against his carrier. His twin Streetwise had pulled himself up onto Grimlock's arm already, intent on shimmying up his shoulder. Blades, against his leg, hadn't stopped talking since they'd been let in.

"You were on the news!" he said excitedly. "You saved someone, right? You're a hero?"

Grimlock tilted his head at Wheeljack, who shrugged. Trust Blades to start with the hard questions.

"I met a mech in a very bad situation in Vos," he said. "So I had to leave my job early to take him here. I'm staying in the palace till the people who hurt him calm down a little."

Blades frowned, and Grimlock hoped he hadn't said the wrong thing. His brother was fourth from youngest, but he was hard to forget in the crowd of siblings. Loud, high-strung, and  _ full  _ of questions.

"You're not in trouble, are you?" he asked. Blades wouldn't have remembered the last time Grimlock was in trouble, but he'd heard bits and pieces. Grimlock shook his head.

"I don't think so," he said, and right now it was the truth. He looked up then, and held out his free arm to Wheeljack. "Come here, carrier. Tell me what everyone's up to."

"Swoop is the gossip," Wheeljack said, crossing the room to lean into Grimlock's hold. It was still a bit jarring to have grown so much bigger than his parents. "I'm sure he brought you any of that."

"Nah," Grimlock said. "He was making fun of me. Hey, Aid," he added, to the youngest. "Have you been good?"

First Aid was two vorns old, the sweetest, most cheerful little mech any of them had ever met. You would never know just looking at him that he'd nearly died at emergence, all round protoform and wiggling limbs. In the last vorn Ratchet had finally started letting his youngest carry out of his sight, and Grimlock suspected it was good for both of them. He nodded, reaching to put his tiny hands on Grimlock's arm.

"I'm  _ always  _ good," he said. Grimlock tried not to meet Wheeljack's gaze, but of course did anyway, and they had to laugh. It was hard not to at such earnestness.

"Grim!" Blades demanded. He wasn't a fan of the attention being off him. "Grim, what did you bring us!"

"Blades," Wheeljack said sternly.

Grimlock's optics flashed, amused. Fortunately, he was not Blades's carrier, so he could be charmed by the times the kid was a little brat. He pointed with his free(er) arm, at a low drawer across the room. Thank Primus he'd remembered to pick something up  _ before  _ he'd gotten bored and found Starscream, because Megatron might have been easier to face than a Blades tantrum. Six little bags were waiting in the drawer, neatly tied.

"Take your brothers and pick out your gifts," he said. Blades whooped, already reaching to help Groove off Grimlock's lap. " _ Don't touch  _ Hot Spot's and Snarl's. I'll give them over when I see them."

His little brothers had forgotten him with a quickness, when treats were involved. First Aid toddled after the older ones, Groove and Streetwise chattering as Blades pulled the drawer open to root around the bags.

"Vosian crystal candy," Grimlock said. "It's real good. Enjoy it, 'cause I probably won't be going back to Vos to get you more."

Blades had already ripped his chosen bag open (the orange, of course), to bite the end off the first crystal stick and chew its sweetness. Streetwise was sucking on his pink stick, Groove was still picking from the remaining colours, and First Aid was clutching his white bag like it were precious treasure. Snarl and Hot Spot, when they got theirs, wouldn't be so fussed about colours, knowing how the younger ones (Blades) could be Still young enough to be thrilled Grimlock brought them their customary present, and that was what mattered.

Wheeljack leaned into him, and Grimlock shifted over enough that he could sit. His carrier's helm fins were flickering happy blue, which was good, but he'd keep his optics on them while they talked. At his worst, Wheeljack could be a solid yellow, even orange if he was extra stressed. Grimlock refused to be the cause. Again.

"I worried," Wheeljack said. "You seem alright, though. And I can't fault where they've put you up."

"No," Grimlock said, spark aching and a smile hiding it. He had his mask off to see the kids--for whatever reason his sharp, thoroughly dangerous teeth relaxed them. "No, it's pretty relaxed in here. And I have my run of the palace, so it's really not so bad. Just a bit boring."

"I'll just drop the sparklings then more often," Wheeljack said mischievously. "I'm sure you'll miss boring when Groove is screaming to get out of bath time and Blades has climbed the cabinet. You know he's got thrusters forming? Ratchet noticed it this week."

"I wondered," Grimlock said. Blades had already eaten a quarter of his candy bag, and it wasn't small. There was a tank-ache in his future. "You can see the start of them on his back. Swoop will be happy about another flier."

Or groan good-naturedly, about having to be the first one to show him the ropes. It was nice to think of Swoop's grin when he saw Blades get off the ground for the first time, and how delighted Blades would be.

"Fliers are the big news, aren't they?" Wheeljack said. "And Blades is never one to miss out on the attention. Have you heard anything about Vos?"

Grimlock shook his head. "Not since the last broadcast asking for extradition."  _ Or the last bomb threat, _ the sentence he didn't say, knowing Wheeljack would fret too much. If Prowl really thought it was a danger, he'd have moved some consorts and all the kids to another estate. And certainly never let Wheeljack show up with the babies. Hell, Prowl lived here with his  _ own  _ newsparks, and rumour had it a third was on the way. It wouldn't be the best timing for Ironhide to go on desk duty, but you couldn't  _ really  _ plan around these things. After eleven siblings, Grimlock would know.

Wheeljack leaned against him. "I took some time off. It's hard to pay attention to energon conservation and blueprints when stuff like this is going on. With my little spark at the centre of it and all."

Grimlock felt warm, embarrassed but certainly pleased. He'd long outgrown being flustered when his carrier fussed over him.

"The kids will be happy you're home," he said. "I'm happy I can see you. Makes me feel peaceful."

Wheeljack looked up at him. "I guess it's hard to feel that right now. I hope it goes the way you deserve, Grimlock. You did the right thing."

Grimlock squeezed his carrier's hand in his. "I did. No matter what happens, he's safe now and better off." He smirked. "Whether he's grateful for it or not. That mech must be a piece of work, even fully healed and untraumatized."

"Your sire called him a medical miracle," Wheeljack said. "He likely just needs more time to settle. Ratchet said Pharma thinks some time in the air will mellow him."

Grimlock imagined mellow by Pharma's standards, and he was smirking again. His suspicion was Starscream was simply a dialed up version of the typical vain, snooty Vosian he had met before. Pharma had only mellowed after vorns and vorns in Iacon, living quite easily among grounders.

"I'm betting Vosian mellow and the-rest-of-Cybertron mellow are two very different things," Grimlock said, amusement colouring his voice. "I've only known the one, really. I wouldn't call Pharma relaxed outside an operating theatre."

Wheeljack's audial fins flickered. "There's a mech who consults for us from the Primal palace," he said. "Skyfire. A shuttle--bigger than you!--and Vosian. But he's gentler than a cyberkitten."

"He can be the new benchmark, then," Grimlock said, grinning. "I didn't see a single sentient shuttle in Vos, actually."

Wheeljack shrugged. "Old functionism, maybe, or you just didn't meet any. They're strange enough as it is. Your Seeker speaks Standard?"

"Oh, yeah," Grimlock said. "Can call me a dirtkisser just fine. When he recovers he'll be able to communicate no problem, assuming people are willing to put up with him."

"I can't help but feel sorry," Wheeljack said sadly. He was so sweet, Grimlock's carrier. "I mean, he does  _ sound  _ like a piece of work...but what a terrible time he's had."

Grimlock's face went darker. "Yeah," he said. "Believe me, I saw it all. Not much of a personality on the mech, carrier, but  _ no one  _ deserves that."

"Keep being kind," Wheeljack said gently. "Like I know you always are. Maybe you can coax something better out of him, right?"

It left a terrible guilt in Grimlock's spark. Wheeljack really  _ did  _ see the best of him--coloured by carrier goggles, for sure--and always tried to keep it forefront. And yes, of course Grimlock always showed Wheeljack his best side. How could he not? The only reason he'd been on his very best behaviour at Garrus-1 had been Wheeljack's near-daily visits, with gifts and credits and encouragement. He'd stood by everything, defiant, but his parents' aching sadness had kept him in check.

Wheeljack's hand squeezed his, a little too hard. Grimlock knew he was thinking of that, too. Unless everything was magically dropped from concern and Vos gave up, there'd be charges again. Not even Optimus's kindness and care for his fellow mechs could keep Grimlock from taking  _ any  _ fall. Vos was too important a city to sanction, and was frankly their biggest military spender. Cybertron could not afford what Grimlock had just done.

And sure, Optimus would never give Starscream back. That mech was safe to rebuild his life if he could. It would not be so easy to help Grimlock once the threats to his life died down, and most likely Cybertron would agree. Especially with the Black Block Consortia making moves on the edge of their space again, and the Galactic Council making noises about Cybertron holding too much of an  _ empire.  _ As if a couple of dinky colonies on uninhabited planets could be such a thing! There couldn't be such strife between city-states as well.

The point was: Vos was a powerful military piece of Cybertron, and there was a very good reason it had been allowed to wallow in its strangeness for so long. Grimlock had instantly turned all that on its audial. He sighed, long and heavy.

"I volunteered that huge balcony for him to sun on," he said. "He keeps trying to leave to get air, though Pharma says the window he's got will keep him sane till he's discharged. His recovery will be awhile, and  _ my _ trial will be awhile yet, so I'll have the time."

Wheeljack's fins flashed yellow for a split second. Where the kids were climbing on furniture and trading candy, Blades glanced up. But Wheeljack had turned back to blue so quick that he returned to his treats, unconcerned. (Blades, predictably, was the only one not sharing).

"I hope there's no trial," he said, more fiercely than Grimlock would have liked. "You did  _ nothing  _ wrong. I won't see you punished again for doing the right thing."

Grimlock tried to be reassuring as he rubbed Wheeljack's palm. "The Prime agrees with you, I think. Can't think about it till something comes of it."

"You're right, my Patch," Wheeljack sighed, slipping into his sparkling name. "If you can take it calmly, I can, too."

"Grimlock!" Streetwise yelled, pulling them out of their thoughts. "Grimlock! Let's play juicy meat!"

There was a  _ little  _ space to play the world's most ridiculous game--one his siblings had made up, and dubbed "juicy meat." Grimlock would simply transform, growl "I want some juicy meat!" and his siblings would shriek and race around until they were caught in Grimlock's huge maw. He'd shake them a little, make them shriek louder, and when they were put down the whole business would start again. It alarmed other caretakers at the park every time, but he'd never met a small sparkling who  _ didn't  _ like it.

Blades cheered--he was not too old for juicy meat. The twins joined him, First Aid giggled, and Grimlock could see Wheeljack's shoulders shaking with laughter. He sighed, stretched, and stood.

"Alright," he said. He wondered what Starscream would think about using his balcony after all, once he heard all the happy screaming.

* * *

The interview had nearly been called off.

"Outside or nowhere," Starscream said, seeing a chance when he could take one. Pharma and Ratchet looking ready to blow their gaskets had been a pleasant, added bonus. "You can send them away otherwise. I don't care."

"They're setting up in  _ here  _ already!" Ratchet protested. Someone had said the mech had  _ twelve  _ sparklings, so Starscream imagined his patience had run off somewhere after the second. (The first, he had learned, was  _ Grimlock,  _ and the bolt truly could not have fallen further from the box). "You're late enough, demanding a  _ polish! _ "

It hadn't even been a  _ real  _ polish, considering Starscream couldn't stand in a washrack and the smell of the stuff still made him a little sick. But his helm, chest, and wings had gotten their due, and he'd have to be satisfied with that.

The interviewer was some  _ flash drive  _ called Rewind, who didn't look particularly annoyed at the delay and was standing on a chair instead, watching Starscream with interest. Something red flickered next to his helm, and Starscream held up a finger at Ratchet.

"Is he filming  _ now? _ " he demanded. His interviewer didn't even have the grace to look ashamed. "Turn that off!"

"So I'm an archivist by trade," Rewind said, hopping down. He said something to one of the guards, and equipment began to be moved. "But since I conjunxed up I get some artistic freedom, so I tend to...archive everything."

"Well, stop!" Starscream demanded. At least his doctors looked like they agreed. "I didn't consent to anything outside the  _ formal  _ discussion, you bite sized brat!"

"Oh, I was born during the late Golden Age," said the infuriating little mech cheerfully. "I'm  _ much  _ too old to be a brat of any kind. Anyway, don't worry--I'm going to edit and upload your interview right in front of you. You'll have your say, and you'll know my intentions were pure. So where were we filming? That balcony?"

"No," Pharma started to say. Starscream put his smile on again.

"Balcony, garden, wherever," he said, knowing his doctors would hate even  _ more  _ having to bring him always the to the lower level. He ignored the minibot's status as an ancient relic. "But outside. I'll be explaining to Cybertron at length how important the sky is to Vosians."

"Of course!" Rewind said. "The Primal garden's aesthetic is unparalleled, too, you'll look fantastic. This is the most sought after interview on Cybertron, you know, we might as well go all out!"

Starscream decided maybe he didn't hate Rewind as much as his first impression. He pushed past the fuzz of his pain medication and smiled at Pharma, who looked ready to see how far he could throw a minibot.

"You heard my interviewer," he said sweetly.

It took an extra half-hour of prep and security re-shuffling, and Starscream thoroughly enjoyed his opportunity to make everyone move their day around for him. Prowl, poor-taste security mech, looked daggers at him the entire time, and Starscream bathed in the glow like an extra coat of polish.

And, oh, wasn't it all worth it to be outdoors!

Starscream resisted simply stepping out of his wheelchair to light his thrusters. Rewind apparently filmed everything, and had made it clear he was just chaotic enough to turn that on his subject if he fell flat on his face and needed a nitrate infusion. The high priests had stolen the sky from him, and Starscream would  _ bask in it  _ as long as he had the opportunity to do so.

He took a moment to close his optics, lean forward, and vent in the breeze as they did their last minute set-ups. The currents here were not bad, for the northern hemisphere, and before year's end he would enjoy them. He was set next to red spiraling crystals that  _ perfectly  _ offset his optics, so he'd look good enough on camera. All told, it was far as possible from the sickened creature he'd been four cycles previous. Of  _ course  _ he was beyond remarkable, with a change like that!

"You're free to refuse any questions you like," Rewind said. "Of course, our viewers are going to want to know everything they can, but I understand you've really been through it. So no worries."

Starscream almost didn't hear him, watching someone fly overhead to rejoin traffic. That should be him. It  _ would  _ be him, soon, and he'd have a life worth living again.

"Of course," he said smoothly. "But you know, I can handle anything. So please go on."

"Alright!" said Rewind cheerfully. "We're rolling--officially!"

The first questions were softballs--brief stuff about Starscream's life, his schooling, thank  _ Primus  _ no questions about trines. What would a memory stick know about them anyway? Starscream made it clear from the get-go why he thought he was taken.

"My inheritance was about to become available to me," he said. "In Vos you reach financial majority when you get your first general degree--later than other cities, so I understand--and my parents had already died. If you join the  _ priesthood  _ in Vos, you generally make a large tithe as well to the highest order, in exchange for the lavish lifestyle."

Rewind caught on fast. "You're saying you were taken because of your money?"

"I believe so." Starscream folded his hands in his lap, looking as thoroughly modest and wronged as he could manage. "There's other, ah, qualifications for being made the flightless one. You must be healthy and young, so they can minimize having to replace you quickly. My predecessor lasted hundreds of thousands of years. You must be an  _ excellent  _ flier, so the suffering is maximized."

The words were sour on his tongue. Rewind was leaning forward a little, his visor bright as he listened intently.

"That's terrible," he said. "I imagine you gleaned quite a bit of the religious aspect in your captivity?"

"The most holy altar in Vos is the one across from my--the cell," Starscream said. "Yes, I had no shortage of time to study chants and understand specifically what I was supposed to be doing."

"And that was...be miserable?"

"'Miserable' is a pretty light word for it," Starscream said. "Flight sickness generally causes insanity. It is claustrophobia a thousandfold, and the genuine belief of the Vosian religion is one mech  _ must  _ suffer from it as far from the sky as possible, at all times. My job was to suffer and have nothing, so Vos itself could thrive and prosper. And I cannot be replaced until I'm dead, which is their cause for panic now."

"I did some research before coming here, and modern resources on the Vosian religion are sparse at best," Rewind said. "I had to go  _ way  _ back to find anything of use, but the only reference to a flightless one suggested a volunteer. Of course, the medieval Vosian language is hard to translate, so maybe you have light to shed...?"

"We're told my role is a volunteer one," Starscream said, trying hard not to let his voice shake with anger. This part was very hard. "That some zealot throws himself into that cell for the Allspark's blessings in the next life. You'll find it's what the high priest says at the press conferences, too. That I was  _ kidnapped,  _ and  _ wanted  _ to be there."

Rewind was leaning forward in his seat, and the little mech had the kind of interest that made you feel like you were the most fascinating mech in the world. Starscream guessed he actually was, with the kind of tragedy he'd suffered for the title, but he could admit to this feeling easier because of it.

"Can you tell us about how you were taken?" he asked. His camera light kept flickering cheerfully next to his face.

Starscream straightened up. He could tell every detail, if he was honest with himself. He'd replayed it over and over again in his mind over the years, calculating and recalculating ways he could have avoided it entirely, or escaped, or even grabbed the priest and cut their main energon lines--

He had been quiet for just too long a moment, so he was quick to find himself again. "It was really quite simple. The day of my graduation, I was told the dean wanted to see me about a specific award. I was top of my class, so naturally I visited his office quickly." He squeezed his fingers, hard, in his lap. "The high priest and two guards were waiting for me there. I was informed I had been volunteered."

"Did you understand what it was they were there for?"

Starscream laughed, harshly. "No. The people of Vos aren't told when their flightless one's spark extinguishes. I thought it was from bad behaviour."

Rewind's visor glittered. "Bad behaviour."

Starscream managed a grin. He didn't say he'd been sure he was about to be blamed for something Skywarp had done, and fully expected to see Thundercracker there too, patiently trying to explain why it was a misunderstanding.

"Well, of course," he said. "Troublemaking enriches life. Anyway, they should have thought of that when they chose me. I kicked and screamed the whole way to the temple, but the mech in my role can't be sedated. The priests felt that for Primus to accept me I must be fully lucid."

"I'm not religious," Rewind said carefully. "But your city's Primus seems to be an unjust one. At least, in this sense."

"Oh, he's not  _ my _ Primus," Starscream snapped. The mech holding the mic flinched, but Rewind didn't budge. "I'm not religious, and I never have been. I am not wasting more of my life for a god who tried to take my best years."

Rewind was still unflinching. This was impressive, considering Starscream could probably snap him in half even in his current condition.

"You strike me as a mech who won't waste any more of them," he said.

Starscream had to admit it went well. He  _ liked  _ Rewind, because he could tell a mech who didn't give a damn about authority when he saw it. His interviewer was nosy and mischievous and  _ probably  _ overly cheerful, but he held up well to what Starscream tried to throw at him. His questions were never cruel, and Starscream couldn't detect an ounce of pity. Nothing but excited fascination, to be the first one to crack the shell of Starscream's dramatic life.

"Do you have anything you want to say to your captors?" Rewind asked, as they finished. True to his word, he'd produced a pretty hefty looking datapad--Starscream assumed for editing.

Starscream liked that, referring to the priests in a public interview as  _ captors.  _ This little mech could be bombed into dust by the Vosian elite trines and was completely unconcerned about it.

He smiled, and held his wings as proudly as he could in the wheelchair. Speaking this long felt like a string was tied around his spark, squeezing slowly, but he was determined to show how not-beaten he had been.

"May they enjoy the same things they gave me," he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There could be an entire fic about the Primal palace alone and how many babies these people are constantly having. Not even Prowl is safe


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I am not a beast," he said softly, and let his engines growl, just enough to be heard. "I am someone with a tyrannosaur alternate mode, coded into my spark, as were all of ours. Even if I'd appeared with the wrong one and transitioned to it, I would be no more a beast than a sleek little Seeker prat."

It was several more days of exhaustion for Starscream. They knew he was improving again when he began to complain, that he hadn't been offered his promised "balcony time." His interview had been a raving success across Cybertron, and Rewind had done a good job showcasing a recovering, but incredibly bright young Seeker who had survived a terrible ordeal.

Naturally Starscream came off with poise and sharpness, since he'd had final say on the edit. People loved this kind of stuff, and the cultish bent to being the "flightless one" had meant half the planet had tuned in to gawk. Of course it was kept quiet that immediately after Starscream had had to purge his tanks out, then take an entire day to recharge, but stress easily irritated his fuel tank right now. Or so Ratchet said. Grimlock pretended not to be too interested in the peculiarities of Starscream's problems. He and his sire both knew he listened to every word with great interest, whatever that meant in the end.

Vos had about lost their minds, and the protests had surged ahead would vigour. Grimlock didn't feel the least bit sorry for their authorities--when more sanctions came down it would not be the priests or government who suffered.

Grimlock had wondered if Starscream would forget about his balcony deal, having visited the garden, but Ratchet had only shook his head when he asked.

"That mech hasn't forgotten a thing he wanted in his life," he said.

Their medical miracle recovered again, and this time Pharma and Ratchet were confident he would stay that way. Maybe attention was the real cure, and television appearances would get him in the air earlier?

Grimlock wondered too why he cared _.  _ He was a bleeding spark for his parents, sure. His brothers and sister,  _ always.  _ For a sick miserable creature he'd snatched up on impulse? He should have been satisfied about the role he'd played and picked up some new house arrest hobby. Video games, maybe. The sparring rooms were probably well-appointed here.

Unfortunately, Grimlock knew the real answer. He also knew why Ratchet kept humouring him with updates, and his sire knew it too. No one had come down on a decision about Grimlock or his role, or even really discussed him, since the initial choice to keep him in the palace. His future was as in flux as Starscream's, even more so. No matter what, once the Seeker was better Starscream would get to make choices again about what to do with his life. Grimlock was at the mercy of his higher-ups.

"Finally!" Starscream said, wheeled out onto Grimlock's balcony. "Air and sky again. I should come daily, my recovery will  _ skyrocket. _ "

A few of the Primal kids were playing with their friends in the garden, and they all looked up briefly at the noise. They paused, to stare a bit at their famous guest, but there was a ball game to be played. Hot Rod started the game back up first, kicking the ball out of little Springer's hands to race it towards the goal. He yelled as he did it--the red and orange mech was a wild one, and soon had every sparkling whooping and running again. He came by it honest--Grimlock had met his carrier Sideswipe. All mischief.

Starscream, so pleased a moment ago, watched the sparklings with distaste. "Loud, but I'll have to take it," he sniffed. Ratchet, who Grimlock had insisted on taking the nicest seat, huffed. He was supposedly monitoring Starscream, but it more likely he planned to keep his son company while he was entertaining such a guest.

"You will," Ratchet said. "They think Hot Rod--the loud one--might be a Matrix-bearer one day. He's not the Prime's oldest, but he's certainly been tapped as an heir. I assure you he never stops."*

Starscream had narrowed his optics skeptically down at the sparklings. "Are those all the Prime's?"

"Hot Rod, Photon and Tempo are," Grimlock said. "Different consorts as carrier. Responder and Springer belong to Prowl and Ironhide--you've met them."

Starscream's brows raised at the named parents, then he sighed, firmly dramatic. "There must be something in the energon in Iacon. I think I knew two or three mechs with even one sibling. It's why our population was rather low, you know."

Grimlock was grinning, though his mask was on today. "So you'd be surprised at my number of siblings, then."

Starscream rolled his optics. "I heard there's twelve of you. I'm sure with that many at least some of them are a credit to society and not lazing about here, though."

Ratchet had the know-how not to look offended. This was just how Starscream was--insulting. Grimlock shrugged.

"Would love to get back to work," he said. "'I'm getting rusty without proper training exercises, and I prefer  _ not  _ being under house arrest."

Starscream raised a brow. "I'm sure it's a terrible confinement here, yes."

Grimlock's spark rolled. That had been the wrong thing to say to a  _ victim of ritual kidnapping,  _ and he tried not to sink lower in his chair.

"Of course it could be worse," he said, too quickly. Starscream smirked, and he realized he was  _ pleased,  _ that Grimlock was squirming. There was no way this mech had not always been a brat, using sharp words as armour. It had kept him alive in his situation, maybe, but the kind people in the palace would only put up with it for so long.

"Well, you two wouldn't know," Starscream said suddenly, leaning back. "But this current is a  _ wonderful  _ one. I'll give Iacon top marks for the flying it can offer me. Maybe I'll even honour the peons with a sky-dance in the new year, really stick it to the priests."

Ratchet had gotten out a datapad. Working again, more than he should. Grimlock reminded himself to tattle to Wheeljack. He glanced up briefly, before returning to whatever he'd snuck out here. "You won't be in the air then," he said. Starscream's wingtips flicked, in what Grimlock guessed was agitation. "Sorry, but Pharma already told you. It could be months."

"I'll just have to  _ rest up, _ " Starscream huffed, He tossed his head a bit, like some kind of pageant king. "This time is helping that. My specialty has always been proving people wrong, you know."

"So we've heard," Grimlock said dryly. "The doctors will get you in the air second it's safe. Don't forget Pharma is Vosian."

"Hmph! Pharma," Starscream said. He rolled his optics, the light in them flashing as bright as it would go. "Some Vosian he is, making nice with all these grounders for so long."

"I guess I wouldn't call what you're doing right now  _ making nice _ ," Ratchet said. "But you'd best learn how. I'm sure you know what your reception in the city of fliers would be like after your great escape."

Starscream sat sourly for awhile after that, and Grimlock listened instead to the sounds of the kids shouting during their game. Maybe he ought to play with them while he was stuck here. Sparklings were generally good company, when you were as experienced with them as Grimlock had become.

"You'll fly again and you can build a new life," Grimlock said. "You have the resources of the Prime himself to do that now. Pretty remarkable."

They both paused as Ratchet stood up. His hand rested on the side of his helm, head tilted, as he received a comm. Then he sighed.

"Grimlock, we'll have to catch up later," he said, and leveled a brief glance at Starscream. "Privately, most likely. But they need me at the hospital."

Grimlock's mind raced through possibilities: natural disaster, terrorist attack, the Vosians had begun hostilities and there were casualties...he had never been anxious before, and he couldn't say he enjoyed it. Ratchet noticed his discomfort immediately, and waved his hand.

"A Senator is demanding me as part of his surgery consult," he sighed. "Which is their right, when the Prime's not in dire straits...but the better ones are polite enough not to throw tantrums about it. Starscream," he added, setting his gaze on the Seeker. "I'm going to get it over with. Enjoy your afternoon. Remedy is on call, do try not to torment her."

Remedy was a nurse in the Primal medical bay, earnest and sweet. Unfortunately also a little gullible, which meant it would be better if Grimlock didn't leave Starscream unsupervised in her vicinity. And it wasn't as if Grimlock  _ hadn't  _ signed up for babysitting an unruly, victimized Seeker on his house arrest balcony.

When Ratchet left, Starscream huffed. "Never let on that I said this about a roller, but--I thought Ratchet was the best medic in this city or something? Why is he indentured on-call doctor to the government?"

Grimlock resisted his urge to sigh. "It's an old archaic clause," he said. "The Prime and his government have rights to Ratchet's care when they're sick, but  _ most _ elected officials have the sense not to take advantage. Either someone is terminal, or it's some shapist, demanding idiot like Ratbat."

Starscream smirked. "You didn't strike me as political."

Grimlock huffed. "Politics is living. You have to be political when some mechs consider legislating your rights and freedoms." The Seeker didn't look terribly uncomfortable or unsettled by this talk, which Grimlock couldn't decide the merits of.

"Hm, that's true," he said. "I guess you'd know. But beast modes have freedom of class now, like everyone? Unless the law changed during my confinement."

Optimus had pretty much torn down Functionism in his early years as Prime, when Grimlock had only been a sparkling. Of course this had made things easier for him, and he had grown up with access to all the same things as his wheeled parents. It had not cured mechs of millennias-worth of discrimination, and Grimlock was no stranger to the nonsense of the upper class. He'd grown up among them, after all.

"No, everyone's rights and freedoms are safe," Grimlock sighed. "But you can't change mech's sparks if they're truly set in their ways. I have to hope yours will change with more time spent here too."

The Seeker flicked his wingtips up, tilting his head. "I wouldn't know what you mean," he said, too lightly. "I'm no longer delirious with fever, remember. I hardly care you're a beast."

Grimlock's spark flared. He couldn't help himself, not when this mech  _ insisted  _ on being obtuse and infuriating, pretending he was right about everything. Better Grimlock set him straight before someone else did.

"I am not a  _ beast, _ " he said softly, and let his engines growl, just enough to be heard. "I am someone with a tyrannosaur alternate mode, coded into my spark, as were all of ours. Even if I'd appeared with the wrong one and transitioned to it, I would be no more a beast than a sleek little Seeker prat."

Starscream had gone quiet, his optics bright and wide, and Grimlock realized he had started to rise from his chair. Not ideal, and he quickly forced himself to be seated again.

"This is a touchy subject for me," he said, more calmly. "But I'll tell you I don't give many extra chances when it comes to treating me like a person. Do you understand?"

"Yes," was all Starscream said. His voice was softer than Grimlock had heard it since they met. "I see."

Grimlock did sigh then, heavy and tired. "Sorry," he said. Starscream would likely use an apology against him, but Grimlock hated literally throwing his weight around to intimidate. Especially about this. "I've worked hard to get where I am in the military. My next brother's a stellar doctor, I have a little brother on track to get two PhDs in one go. Nothing beastly about us except the claws."

"No," Starscream said quietly. "I suppose not."

"People keep saying this to you, I know," Grimlock said. "But you'll have to get used to the grounders here too. Vos is very unique and insular, but you're smart enough to notice they're all pretty similar."

Starscream sighed, sinking further into his wheelchair. "I'll admit it to you because you're his offspring...but I prefer Ratchet. Maybe I ought to demand his treatment too."

"Same here," Grimlock said, grinning under his mask. "But you might not like him so much if he's treating you under duress. His bedside manner varies wildly depending on what he thinks has the most benefit."

"Well,  _ that's  _ alarming," Starscream huffed. "But Pharma,  _ there's  _ a prat. By Primus."

Grimlock didn't say it was because he was pretty sure Vosians flocked together and argued. And as quickly as he'd been angered, that dumb grin had been plastered once again onto his face. Starscream of Vos was a strange mech.

The rest of their time outside passed quietly. The sparklings were called in and left the garden peaceful, the only sounds the faint traffic on the faraway highways in greater Iacon. Starscream dozed off, and Grimlock politely pretended he didn't when Remedy appeared to rouse him and take the Seeker back to his hospital berth. Afterwards Grimlock poured himself a shot from the well-stocked cabinet in this apartment, checked the holonet news for an update on Vos, and checked his own inbox for a private one. Nothing, still. He would have to be patient, but of course it hadn't gotten easier.

Especially when Groove had asked sweetly when Grimlock would visit them at home again, and he and Wheeljack had had to tell him not yet.

So he downed his shot and took a nap, because no one was here right now to be worried about him.

Starscream was wheeled onto Grimlock's balcony every afternoon after that. The staff seemed relieved to be rid of their Seeker, and Grimlock's family couldn't exactly come every day to entertain him. He had to admit that the company was nice, even when Starscream complained about the energon, the air he'd so complimented in the past, the fact that he could  _ stand  _ now but the nurses kept scolding him about it.

"I'm the picture of health!" he declared, leaping out of his chair to preen on his feet. He looked for all the world like a techfowl in the Iacon Gardens, and Grimlock almost laughed. He managed to avoid this when Starscream wobbled on his thrusters, nearly falling forward and forcing Grimlock to catch him.

"Get your paws off, I'm  _ fine, _ " Starscream groused, as he was set back down gently and Grimlock's spark eased with relief. If his stress levels could be a line on his HUD, his time with Starscream would shoot up and dip down like a roller coaster. A vain, annoying, overly complicated mech, overcompensating for what must have been mental anguish Grimlock was unqualified to dig into.

"If you keel over in my watch," Grimlock said, "we'll both find out why they call Ratchet  _ the mad doctor. _ "

He guessed that soon enough Starscream really would be strutting out here, and that would be when his real work would begin. And his Seeker charge really was his only work, so long as this stalemate went on and there was so little news. Grimlock had visions of Starscream attempting to climb over the balcony and ignite his thrusters. It would probably not be unlike when Snarl had been a toddler at his baby gate, and discovered he had fire breath.

Funny how Vosians were supposed to be disciplined military mechs on top of all the pomp and superiority. Grimlock didn't think Starscream had ever followed an order in his life.

On what Grimlock would consider a good day, Wheeljack had already visite. He'd been followed by Swoop, who left him a handheld game system ("there's gotta be a new release you'll like") and he'd gotten eleven sibling's worth of news. Blades broke a window. First Aid was learning to read. Hot Spot got a kindness award at school. Paddles would be coming back from Regulon-IV now that the practical part of his thesis was done.

And Starscream was wheeled out, his optics on a datapad. One of many he had acquired in the last couple of days.

"Geology," he said, not looking up. "If I'm to live among grounders I'd better learn about what you're trudging about on."

It was a good day, and Grimlock had to smile about it. Starscream would probably rocket up through the scientific ranks, if he only bothered to be polite to the right people. It was good for his mind to read, he figured, and it was a thrill to watch Starscream improve in leaps and bounds. He really might be flying by the new year, if he kept this up.

Reading, the flying goal, they kept the Seeker's optics from going dark and distant. From spitting out angry words and demanding that they all leave him alone. Though that had happened a few days here and there, too.

And that had been a few days here and there, too.

The weather was good for the time of year, breezy and warm, and Grimlock was feeling restful. So of course an urgent comm took that time to ping.

_ We could use you down here, Grimlock.  _ Prowl, which meant this wouldn't be good.  _ Mechs are here looking for Starscream. _

Grimlock leaped up, and Starscream looked away from his datapad in irritation.

"Can you not disrupt my concentration?" he snapped, though his wings flicked at the look on Grimlock's face. Grimlock gave his head a minute shake.

"Wasn't expecting a comm," was all he said. Starscream huffed.

"Some soldier you are," he said, and turned back to his book.

_ Description?  _ he commed back, as he pinged the nurse on call to come sit with Starscream. He still wasn't trusted unsupervised.

_ Black Seeker, blue Seeker, roughly his age.  _ A pause, odd for Prowl.  _ Crying profusely, and their condition is poor. I suspect due to being overtaxed in flight. They claim they are his trinemates. _

Starscream had implied he had no trinemates, no one from before the cell left to care. And this had been easy to believe, with the trine bond supposedly being a big one in Vos and Starscream's people skills leaving...quite a lot to be desired.

_ Names?  _ Grimlock asked. Starscream was absorbed in his book again.  _ Would you call them a threat? _

_ Not remotely,  _ Prowl replied. He could just hear the dryness.  _ They're hysterical, but compliant. Skywarp and Thundercracker. If Starscream reacts poorly or doesn't recognize them, they can be sent away. Security is being sent to the medical wing to supplement his regular guards. _

"Starscream," Grimlock said carefully. His charge (that's what he was right now, really), grunted.

"You didn't know a Skywarp and Thundercracker back in Vos, did you?" he asked. "They showed up at the palace door looking for you."

It was a yes or no question, really. It was also one that Grimlock thought he'd have a handle on Starscream's reactions for. Bravado covering fear, or annoyance, or excitement, so he didn't let on to Grimlock that he was feeling  _ too  _ hard yet. What he did not expect was for Starscream's wings to drop as low as possible, and for his face to morph into anguished, broken down  _ misery. _

"Who?" he asked, very softly. His voice cracked as he said it.

Grimlock paused. Starscream hadn't even looked like that  _ in  _ the cell, when he had first found him and been so struck by the burning in his optics. He almost bent down to his level, like he would have with one of his siblings, but realized that idea's foolishness in time.

"Skywarp and Thundercracker," he said again, gently. "They're saying they're your trinemates, and I don't know a lot about that, but--"

"They are," Starscream said, almost inaudibly.

"Well...what would you like me to tell security? They'd both like to see you, but the palace and Vosians right now..." Grimlock trailed off. Starscream looked like he had just been told they'd be taking his wings and that Vos had had an atomic bomb dropped directly on it. Grimlock just didn't know what to  _ say. _

Starscream made an aborted noise, like a sob. His optics burned, so bright they were white. Then he burst out of his chair and scrambled, towards the doorway, crashing into the side with one of his wings. He  _ was  _ sobbing, hiccuping deep ones on the floor where he'd fallen.

"Why are they here?" he gasped. "Why the  _ fuck  _ are they here?"

"Starscream?" Grimlock asked in alarm. He stared, at the Seeker's shuddering frame and twitching wings. A worried guard had poked his head in. Starscream whipped his head around to stare at Grimlock, and he almost had to step back at the sight. He had the dark thought that Starscream would be an excellent battlefield deterrent, in this state--stick this mech as he was in front of a Sharkticon, and they wouldn't need much help chasing them off.

The Seeker didn't answer, his vents roaring as he stared at Grimlock.

"Skywarp and Thundercracker," he said. "You knew them?"

Starscream shrieked, such an anguished terrible noise that a guard rushed into view to make sure he wasn't being murdered. Grimlock held up his hands, placating, knowing it would do the opposite of help.

"Don't speak their  _ names! _ " he screamed, and lurched forward. Grimlock stepped back on impulse, and watched as Starscream half-dragged himself into the washrack and slammed the door. They heard the lock click.

He and the guard stared at each other for a long moment. The solvent had been turned on in the shower, and Grimlock could guess how well forcing the lock back open would go. He gave his head a small shake, and straightened up.

"I'll be back shortly," he told the guard. "Just make sure he doesn't hurt himself in there or something."

The guard looked ready to ask how he would do  _ that,  _ but Grimlock simply didn't have time for the back-and-forth. Briskly, he headed off down the corridor, past the milling medical bay staff (they had surely heard everything) and the long winding way towards the visitor intake. Prowl would have corralled their visitors there, to be scanned for weapons and interviewed, but he hadn't sounded concerned about a threat. Grimlock felt certain that they  _ were  _ known to Starscream, because one didn't pull such a reaction from nowhere over a couple of vaguely known names.

Their Seeker was an odd mech. He felt pain the same as anyone, maybe even more deeply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More babies? More Seekers? Starscream reacting to everything as up to 11 as possible? We really have everything


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Your guest is our trinemate," the black Seeker ground out. Grimlock wondered which one was which. The three of them all looked very similar, actually. "Vos might have expunged the record, but we didn't forget! Even when everyone told us to!"

Grimlock found a small crowd milling about the entrance to the visitor area. Looky-loos, because everything about Vos right now was a spectacle. There was nothing Iaconians, courtier, staff, or otherwise loved more. It was easy for him to simply glance at the gathered mechs, and watch them avoid optic contact and step quickly out of his way. Out of the corner of his optic he saw Hot Rod streak back down a hallway. The little mech had better hope his sire wouldn't know he was gawking.

Grimlock saw immediately who must be Skywarp and Thundercracker: two young Seekers, Starscream's age, seated in comfortable chairs near a window. Their helms were near-identical, though he suspected slightly different jet modes from the frames. Both were bigger than Starscream, but the blue one was taller and broader than his companion. The black one had bitten his lip and was staring fiercely at Prowl, and the blue one was gripping an energon cube so tightly his joints must have been aching. They were both covered in dents and dust, like they'd been flying through a windstorm. Perhaps that wasn't far off.

"Just let us see him," implored the black mech. He had only just met Prowl, so of course he didn't know the mech was immovable. His faceplate was streaked with coolant, his optics crusted at the edges from the crying. Not dignified, but he hardly seemed to care. "Please, you don't know  _ how  _ long we've been looking. You'll see, we'll know how to help him."

The blue mech had the look of someone exhausted by arguing. His optics were icy and bright, just as crusted by coolant. He shifted one of his hands from the cube to rest on his companion's knee, to rub his thumb in smooth little circles. He glanced warily up at Grimlock, who nodded once, and knew he was not the least reassuring looking.

"The safety of our guest is a high priority," Prowl said, barely glancing Grimlock's way. "You have to understand why we can't just let up two strange mechs he hasn't asked for." Prowl could have stood her for days. The only reason he wouldn't was because Ironhide was sparked up again, and he'd want to go home and frag him eventually.

"Your guest is our  _ trinemate, _ " the black Seeker ground out. Grimlock wondered which one was which. The three of them all looked very similar, actually. "Vos might have expunged the record, but we didn't  _ forget!  _ Even when everyone told us to!"

"Warp," said the blue mech tiredly. His vocalizer staticked hoarsely. Thundercracker, then. "You're talking to a wall."

"I'll talk to it all day, then!" Skywarp said fiercely. "Stop just sitting there!"

"Starscream does know them," Grimlock said.

Everyone paused. Prowl's mechs glanced at each other, but their head of enforcement only nodded and turned to face Grimlock. The two Seekers' gazes were burning into him, their wings doing that twitchy, anxious thing Starscream's often did.

"I've never seen him react the way he did when I said their names," Grimlock said calmly. "Distressed is putting it lightly. He's locked himself in the washrack, so he's safe for now."

Thundercracker was half-standing, as Skywarp gaped at him. Their wings had perked upward in identical motions, quivering at the tips. Prowl held a finger to his mouth, optics narrowed in thought.

"He needs us, then," Skywarp said. He whirled, to face Prowl. "What do you need from us, then? Pictures? We have them, those mechs who wiped our consoles didn't get all of them--"

"How do you know Starscream?" asked Thundercracker. His optics had not left their new visitor.

He was the thoughtful one, Grimlock guessed. Quiet and intense, not prone to outbursts. At least, he wasn't yet. Skywarp was less mild, looking at Prowl with as much defiance someone with a wobbling lower lip could muster.

Prowl flicked one of his doors, in Grimlock's direction. "That's the mech who pulled your trinemate out of Vos."

Skywarp gaped at him instead. He stood up too, following Thundercracker's lead. "So now you believe us?"

"Grimlock has spent a fair amount of time with Starscream since his arrival," Prowl said. He talked like they were discussing what sort of furniture the security offices would be getting. "Starscream has a tendency towards dramatic words and actions, but it's sound to believe Grimlock if he's stated he acted unnaturally."

Grimlock studied the two Seekers a moment longer. "How long have you known Starscream?"

"Since creche," Skywarp said immediately. "We did everything together."

Grimlock tried to lower his shoulders a little, mindful of how he loomed over everyone. "And you know all about why he was missing?"

Thundercracker made a derisive noise. His optics were dark now. "He was on every airwave for being the flightless one. That was Starscream, alright. We flew straight here."

"You look like you did," Grimlock said wryly. "That's quite a trip without a shuttle."

The Seekers looked away, and Grimlock regretted saying anything. There was an obvious reason why they had flown here under their own power.

"We couldn't afford that," Skywarp said, confirming his suspicion. "A little hard to hold down jobs when everyone calls you crazy, and tells you to shut up about your missing trinemate."

Grimlock was deeply grateful that it wasn't up to him to uncover all of the unsettling layers that were Vos. He'd done enough of his own digging, quite by surprise.

"We had to leave pretty fast, too," Thundercracker added. "Vos's border is locked down. You could still leave when we did, but you can't even do that now. Certainly no getting back in."

"And we think we're done with Vos anyway," Skywarp said.

Prowl had been listening to all of this, and Grimlock knew his tactical unit must be humming with the possibilities. No matter how many battles were fought, mysteries solved, or cases closed, no mech was going to compete with Prowl of Petrex.

"I believe you," Prowl said, to Grimlock's relief. He didn't want to have to argue down multiple percentage scenarios (he'd heard about this before from his parents, and he was not equipped). "You'll be guarded when brought to see him and for the next while after, but the explanations for why else you'd fly here and put on that display are limited. You're both low on energy," he added.

Prowl had wisely decided the Seekers would have been the world's worst assassins or terrorists, and the fact that he had a carrying partner at home had probably sped up his calculations. Thundercracker gave his head a shake.

"We'll energize later," he said quickly. The cube he was holding had begun to spill onto his hand.He finally seemed to recognize he was holding it, and set it hastily on the end table next to him. "Can we see him now? If he's locked himself in the washrack he's spiralling. He turned the water on?"

It reminded Grimlock of the way he talked about his siblings sometimes, especially the ones he worked with. If a member of his Dynobots was acting out, it was Grimlock's job to know why, as their brother as well as their commanding officer. At some point in their lives, Thundercracker had made it his job to know these things about Starscream.

"Exactly that," Grimlock said finally. It was frankly a surprise Starscream hadn't done it sooner, but Starscream hadn't let on that there was anyone left to care about him. "Prowl, there's triple the guards in the medical wing now. I can escort these two up...?"

"There's further protocols that I'll have to waive," Prowl said. Grimlock almost detected a hint of pain in his tone, at having to deny those further security measures from occuring. "Take them, then. On alert."

There was always the possibility that they were wrong, of course. Grimlock had every confidence he could detain two dirty, exhausted Seekers as easily as he'd carried out their sick trinemate, and he gestured to the two of them. "This way, then."

That was when Skywarp  _ teleported  _ to his side with a loud crack _ ,  _ and succeeded in making Prowl actually jump. Grimlock's spark contracted, preparing to step in front of the kid before their enforcer could change his mind and make an arrest. Apparently Thundercracker had had the same idea, and he jumped anxiously in front of Grimlock first.

"We'll give you all the specs!" he said quickly. "We're outliers. I make sonic booms. Starscream's not one, in case you're worried he's lying."

Skywarp looked shellshocked. He probably had not even thought about what he was doing. "I can't teleport somewhere I haven't been that easily," he said weakly. "Like, my warp drive's still mapping coordinates. You can cuff me if you want."

"That...won't be necessary." Prowl looked like he had aged a decade in that moment. He touched the side of his helm. "Just go. Grimlock, I'm putting the reserves on alert too. They're your responsibility."

Grimlock looked at the Seekers, whose optics were so wide they looked younger than they were. "C'mon. This way."

Four guards followed them through the curious, murmuring crowd, towards one of those artful staircases full of pieces some earlier Prime had put in. So overwrought and ridiculous, and probably in for a future of Seeker wings knocking something expensive over.

He was no interrogator, but he was absolutely certain these young mechs were truthful. Even Prowl had let them just walk up in the end, guarded or not. It wasn't unusual for their security head to interview visitors to the Primal palace for hours, if a serious situation had arisen. This made him unpopular (Megatron especially thought his methods ridiculous), but that combined with Soundwave's eyes and ears across the estate made for an utterly safe location. No one could deny it all worked.

He was surprised when Thundercracker touched his arm. Skywarp was walking in odd, too-quick paces just behind him, probably trying not to jog ahead. Occasionally he heard the aborted hum of a thruster cut off. When Grimlock glanced over, he could feel the effort Thundercracker was putting into looking calm.

"Thank you," he said. "For getting him out of there. No one told us what happened to him."

"I did what anyone would do," was what Grimlock said. Thundercracker huffed.

"If that was true," he said, "then Vos would have stopped this long ago."

Grimlock made every guard stay outside the room, despite their protests. They'd all been informed a teleporter was in their midst, which meant Grimlock really would have his work cut out for him if the mech could escape holds that way. The solvent in the washrack was still running, and Grimlock pointed at the doorway. "Have at him."

Immediately Thundercracker rested a hand on Skywarp's arm. "No teleport yet," he said. "Only if we can't get him to unlock."

Skywarp looked a little disappointed by this, but nodded, and let TC step forward first to knock.

"Star?" he called. His voice wavered, but only for a moment.

The solvent shut off.

Thundercracker and Skywarp's wings both perked up a higher. "Starscream?" Thundercracker said, more hopefully. Skywarp rushed forward, and pressed one audial to the door so fast he thunked against it.

Grimlock couldn't hear was Starscream was saying, if anything, but he watched the Seekers' optics narrow as they listened intently. Thundercracker huffed out a soft vent.

"We saw you on the holonet," he said, his voice barely cracking. "Of course we didn't find a new third."

"We didn't see a  _ body _ ," Skywarp said, still squished against the door. "We were  _ sure  _ you were out there."

Grimlock heard Starscream's voice next, though not any words. It was simply rising in pitch because of how unhappy he was. The two Seekers tensed.

"There's nothing for us in  _ Vos, _ " Thundercracker said, more firmly. "I'm tired of all the threats anyway. We also don't care how bad you look--"

"Or if you're not allowed to fly yet," Skywarp finished. His optics were bright and white, and both seemed to have forgotten another mech was even in the room with them. "That's  _ those  _ bastard's fault. We'll get you back up there."

From the looks of them, Grimlock had doubts these two Seekers would have the energy to fly for a few days anyway. They were covered in that layer of dust, biolights dull from exertion...and the telltale signs of mechs who couldn't always afford the best care. Grimlock wondered how long the fall from grace had taken. In all likelihood, they would have been of a similar status to Starscream for him to give them the time of day.

The door opened a crack. Both Seekers jumped, and Grimlock nearly did too. Starscream's optic was visible behind the crack, what was visible of his helm dripping wet.

He said something in Vosian, and instantly Thundercracker shook his head. They weren't even looking at Grimlock, and for a time carried a rapid conversation back and forth in the language. Frankly, Grimlock was surprised they hadn't switched earlier.

Minutes passed before Skywarp looked up, and jerked his head towards the door. "Out. We got this."

Grimlock narrowed his optics. Then he shook his head, straightening up. "This is  _ my  _ apartment, you know that, right? I've been letting him use the balcony."

Skywarp waved his hand towards the door. "We're borrowing it. Shoo."

Grimlock was surprised enough that he didn't argue. Either way, he suspected Starscream would be in that washrack awhile longer, and he'd done his bit. Trust Starscream to take over someone else's living quarters for a breakdown, and rope his two long-lost trinemates into the whole thing.

"I'm outside the door," he said. "Knock when I can have my place back."

Prowl would likely not be any more relieved after seeing Grimlock's comm.  _ They're who they say they are. Keep your mechs on standby, but I'm monitoring They still need to coax him out, so keep medical on standby too. _

_ Copied.  _ Prowl's comms were always prompt.  _ I'm moving flight-capable guards to your balcony, and all cameras are online in case of the teleporter. Advanced operations has been informed. _

It took quite a lot to rattle Prowl. He'd have to let that Skywarp mech know it later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [seeker stans chanting in the distance] trine trine trine trine trine
> 
> normally I'd update on a friday too, but since this friday is chrismus, I'll take that day off lol. happy holidays, I sincerely hope you and yours are all safe and happy in the new year! I'll see you all next week.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starscream was silent while Skywarp washed. He could imagine the Vosian senate in their private meetings, probably bringing the high priest along, to discuss the flightless one's annoying trinemates. How they wouldn't forget, and likely told the media lobbyists and law enforcement exactly what to do to send them away. Their next steps would not have been so gentle, not when it could jeopardize the city's religious balance.

It was  _ wildly  _ frustrating to realize all your hard work forgetting your loved ones was for nothing.

Starscream had been actively hardening his spark, pulling out all the stops for his veneer of collected, casual indifference. He'd cut out the slag about alt modes and being grounded--it was going to matter here--but it was acceptable to better than everyone else, and remind them of it every so often. Trust these two idiots to reappear just as he was getting it all to work out.

He hoped he hadn't relapsed. The steam and heat had started making it hard to ventilate, and he'd turned the shower icy cold instead. Then he was shivering, his scalded paint aching, and he'd finally turned the stupid knob to a normal temperature. If he hadn't been furiously sobbing and waiting for his readings to turn a safer colour, he would have enjoyed such a well equipped washrack.

He had wondered if he'd be commed, but the thing had been damaged from the infections. Pharma had decided to get him a higher-end one instead, something Starscream hadn't complained about, but it wasn't ready yet. So his first sign that his breakdown was not for nothing came from a small knock. Thundercracker's tired, croaking voice, saying a nickname he'd clock  _ anyone  _ else for.

With a shaky hand, he'd reached up and turned off the shower. Then shuffled to the door, because he couldn't even  _ walk,  _ much less fly. Maybe he'd never fly again.

"Starscream?" Thundercracker said again. Starscream sniffed, hard, and wiped his optics furiously. At least he wasn't the only one being weak and pathetic today.

"Why are you here?" was what he said. He was furious at his own voice too, broken and cracked from crying under hot solvent. Pathetic. They'd never come near him again when they saw what he'd fallen to. "Figured you found someone else after."

"We saw you on the holonet," was the reply. In Standard, because Starscream had spoken in it first out of habit. "Of course we didn't find a new third."

"What good of a third am I now?!" Starscream snapped. "I'm a traumatized setpiece for the planet to gawk at, so they can point at crazy old Vos! Now  _ you  _ are supporting characters!"

They all sounded like they were back in school, arguing in the dorm about something or other. Primary, secondary, university, they had always roomed together. Starscream had always taken the low berth and made them recharge on the bunks. In university they'd get frisky on the stupid thing when they knew he was there, making it squeak, until Starscream roared at them and went flying after curfew. He couldn't even remember most of what they'd all shouted about besides that, but it must have been so inane. They were untouchable, after all! The highest class of mech, on the road to the highest tier of education and a powerful career. Mechs who trined early, and succeeded, were the best of fliers.

"There's nothing for us in  _ Vos, _ " Thundercracker said. He sounded certain of that. "I'm tired of all the threats anyway. We also don't care how bad you look--"

"--Or if you're not allowed to fly yet," Skywarp finished. Starscream wondered when he would hear him. "That's  _ those  _ bastard's fault. We'll get you back up there!"

It was almost too much, how his spark soared at just the sound of their voices. It would show an infuriating weakness as soon as anyone saw them all together, especially if Pharma was witness. Pharma didn't appear to have ever had a trine, and had the sense not to ask further about Starscream's. The part that actually made him angry was that he didn't  _ care.  _ They'd all know he was a soft-sparked fool, who picked his childhood friends for the most vital bond of his life.

His hands shaking, Starscream reached for the door. He pulled it aside, just a crack.

Grimlock was there, but Starscream hardly glanced at him. Skywarp and Thundercracker had crowded the crack in the doorway to get a good look at him, and they looked  _ terrible. _

The crying, for one, was all over their faces. Very unbecoming for noblemechs. Covered in dirt, so he guessed they had  _ flown  _ to Iacon. (He tried desperately to stamp down the affection in his spark, and failed.) And...rusty, at the joints. Not easy to see from a distance, but Starscream knew them as gleaming, immaculate Seekers almost as beautiful as himself. But it had probably not been very easy for them, for Starscream to disappear. He couldn't imagine anyone had told them where he might have gone.

They just stared at each other for a time. They were looking him over too, certainly seeing how bad  _ he  _ looked (as if they could blame him)! Finally, Skywarp broke the gaze. He looked over at Grimlock, and jerked his thumb towards the door. "Out. We got this."

The big lug narrowed his optics at them. Grimlock really did tower, even a frame length back like he was, but Starscream had only been intimidated when Grimlock intended him to be.

"This is  _ my  _ apartment, you know that, right?" Grimlock said. How stupid. How could those two have known? "I've been letting him use the balcony."

A headache was creeping back into Starscream's helm (he couldn't imagine why) and he almost didn't even care if Grimlock was here. What did it matter? He was around all the time anyway, with the balcony agreement, and it wasn't like he could speak Vosian. But Skywarp and Thundercracker didn't know him--didn't know _ anything,  _ really. He chastised himself internally, for even considering letting Grimlock observe something as intimate as reuniting properly with his trine. This ridiculous weakness would have to go  _ soon,  _ and he just knew it would take forever, with these two soft-sparked idiots back with him.

Starscream was grateful for Skywarp's hand wave, towards the door. He hadn't even had to kick up another fuss. Like they'd never been apart. "We're borrowing, shoo."

Grimlock was easily defeated. But Starscream had learned that already. "I'm outside the door," he said, turning to go. "Get me when you're ready."

The door slid closed with a soft  _ click.  _ For a moment there was just silent. Then Starscream narrowed his optics, tilting his helm in thought at Skywarp in Thundercracker.

"You know you both look like slag, right?" he said. They had switched between Standard and their mother tongue often throughout their lives, being modern young mechs, but now the rolling words of Vosian brought comfort. They rose in pitch like high winds, nostalgic updrafts.

The reaction was as expected. Thundercracker's face broke into a watery smile, and Skywarp shoved the rest of the doorway open with an equally wet sob, throwing his arms hard around Starscream. It hurt, and he squeaked, but they didn't acknowledge the indignity.

"You'd know about looking like slag," Warp sobbed. In a moment Thundercracker's helm bumped against his, and there they were, squeezed together on the wet tile floor.

Finally Starscream shoved them both off. "Help me shower," he demanded, trying as hard as he could to sound like his old self. "And I'll scrub between your wings, since apparently you two haven't been bothering."

"We haven't been on the rich side of things since we lost you," Skywarp said, more cheerfully. He wiped the coolant off his face, as if it would make a difference with all the streaks already on him. "Did you know missing person's reports cost money?"

He jumped to his feet, then helped Starscream very gently to his. Skywarp had always been good about instinct, and he had already figured out how best to keep Starscream from having to hold up too much weight as he let him lean. Thundercracker was already at the taps, frowning and setting them all to a more normal temperature.

"They probably don't," Starscream said dryly. He winced then, as the warm solvent hit his now-burned paint, and watched Thundercracker wince back in sympathy. "It was likely to deter you from looking for their flightless one. You really kept filing them?"

"Until they made us stop," Thundercracker said. He touched Starscream's arm gently as he passed, and Starscream's spark soared. "I'm gonna see if your friend has a first aid kit. Hang on."

"Grimlock? He's not my friend _ , _ " Starscream said. Thundercracker probably couldn't even hear him.

Skywarp's optics twinkled. They were probably his best feature, so bright and expressive, making Starscream's spark glow right back in response. He just  _ knew  _ that old scrap Ratchet would see how happy Starscream was when he met the trine, and smile to himself like he was  _ proud  _ or something. It might be worse than Pharma's knowing, Vosian glance. He needed these mechs, so badly, and they had felt that enough to  _ come find him  _ outside of Vos!

That was fine. He could accept his trinemates doing their duty, then, even if he was a damaged flightless burden. They could be all he needed.

"Weird," Skywarp said. "Since he let you take over his apartment to have emotions, and gave up instantly when he reminded you it was his. You use his balcony?"

"I can't fly yet," Starscream grumbled. "I've had to content myself with just seeing the sky."

"Good," Skywarp said, more softly. Blessedly, what Skywarp did instead of follow that thought was pick up a bottle of cleaner and awkwardly squeeze some into one hand. He was making it difficult for himself, one arm around Starscream's shoulders. "Damn, you should tell your friend there's better polish out there, though. There's life beyond three-in-one."

"Oh, I plan to," Starscream said, choosing to ignore his trinemate's faux-pas. He could remind Skywarp he didn't have, nor needed friends later, since he was absolutely right. "The state of this, especially when you look like you last saw a detailer half a vorn ago."

"More like a vorn and a half," Skywarp said, cheerful as he began to scrub Starscream's cockpit. "We've been kinda poor too though, like I said. Our families were trying to starve us out a bit by the end, I think, since going to the media and stuff about you was wasting so much time."

Starscream was silent while Skywarp washed. He could imagine the Vosian senate in their private meetings, probably bringing the high priest along, to discuss the flightless one's annoying trinemates. How they wouldn't forget, and likely told the media lobbyists and law enforcement exactly what to do to send them away. Their next steps would not have been so gentle, not when it could jeopardize the city's religious balance.

"You should have listened to them," Starscream murmured. "The priesthood would have had you killed if you got a little close to where I'd gone. I guarantee you all the authorities knew, the dean of students...believe me, I've learned every inch of Vos's cursed religion."

Skywarp's hand paused scrubbing. His pretty, bright eyes narrowed and darkened, like a shadow had passed behind them.

"One day, us three will bring that temple down," he said, and didn't sound at all like himself. "You know how many times we flew past it? If we had  _ known... _ "

"You would have gotten killed," Starscream said simply. "Grimlock snuck down because he bribed guards--I asked. They didn't care about outsiders, so they made a mistake. They knew who you were to me and would have kept you out."

"It's hard to think about you in the dark," Skywarp murmured.

"Then  _ don't! _ " Starscream snapped. Thundercracker must have found his first aid kit, because Starscream heard his feet pause in the doorway. Skywarp looked up, optics wide.

"Don't," he said again, and reached out with his free hand to tip up Skywarp's chin. "You're not a trine cast adrift any more. That means you're home, so think about nothing else but that. Get washing."

"He had a standard-issue kit in a drawer," Thundercracker said. Thank Primus he could be trusted to have more sense. "And, you'll like this--" he thrust some tins out for Skywarp and Starscream to look at. "Polish. Really basic, but  _ good _ . I bet the staff left it for him, but it's unopened."

"It  _ is  _ the Primal palace," Starscream said. Even the tips of his wings felt warm seeing polish, and he rode a wave of fondness for Thundercracker. "They expect mechs not to walk around looking homeless."

"Well, that Grimlock's not  _ bad  _ looking," Skywarp said. He was grinning again, unfortunately because he was about to be annoying. "He doesn't need much help."

"Don't tell me you're into a beast," Thundercracker said.

"Unlearn talking like that now," Starscream said, surprised at his own quickness. "The slag you take for it here won't be worth it."

Thundercracker shrugged, but Starscream watched careful dip of his wings. Yes, he was properly admonished. "Skywarp, let's sit him near the warm solvent," he said. "Then you don't have to keep holding him up, and he can rest."

"I'm fine," Starscream insisted, even as his struts eased with relief when Skywarp did as he was told. "Then you can't help me polish my aft!"

"You can't walk," said Thundercracker, unmoved. He had begun opening the first-aid kit to set out things. Now a smile was playing on his lips. "So your friend Grimlock can't admire it yet anyway."

Starscream grabbed a cleaning cloth from the floor and whacked him with it. Thundercracker yelped, Skywarp laughed, and Starscream felt at home again.

* * *

Apparently Grimlock had dozed off outside the apartment, leaning against the wall in a standing position. The guards had been milling further down the hall, and there had been nothing to report to Prowl. No one outside had noticed any kind of teleportation-based kidnapping, not that they had any idea how far that Skywarp mech could take it. No screaming, no banging on walls, no sonic booms, however they sounded. It was embarrassing to realize he'd dozed because he'd been poked in the abdominal plating, coming awake to meet optics with a small, grinning mech.

"Evenin'," said Jazz, with a mock salute. "All quiet on the Seeker front, I see."

"Uh, yeah," Grimlock said. "They've been quiet. Obviously." He managed only to sound a little flustered.

He knew Jazz decently enough, because Ratchet and Wheeljack had been his and Optimus's friends before the Matrix had chosen its new host. The four remained close, and Jazz had met him several times when he was still Patch. These days Grimlock knew what Jazz did for a living, and nothing about his cheerful disposition or First Consort marks could change the fact he was  _ the  _ most dangerous mech in the Primal Palace. Not even most of the staff knew he handled special operations, or that one other consort was his skilled second. Optimus's lovers were an interesting lot.

Ha. Prowl might need a leave of absence, if he was rattled enough to send Jazz. And the black ops consort would cheerfully agree.

He was already keying the door open, not bothering to wait for Grimlock. "Better check on our new guests. Your instincts were good, by the way. None of my stuff's gone off and Prowl dug up some records. Lots of complaints in the Vosian system, about two mechs lookin' for someone who didn't exist."

It really didn't matter what kind of outlier you were, in here. If Jazz decided you were a threat--really a threat--to the Prime or his people, you didn't actually live long enough to find out how he felt about it. Skywarp and Thundercracker really were two dumb, desperate kids who had wanted nothing more than to see Starscream, and Grimlock hoped he wouldn't regret letting them up here.

He heard Jazz's chuckle as he entered the room behind him, even before he saw the source.

"We'll be fixing you a different room tonight," he said, grinning and jerking one thumb at Grimlock's occupied berth.

The Primal staff had set Grimlock up with every amenity, including a specialized recharge area for a mech of his size. It was currently occupied by three recharging Seekers, so deeply out that they hadn't even stirred. A thermoblanket was thrown over them to their chins, but he could see that Starscream was clearly curled in the middle, face squished against Skywarp's shoulder. Thundercracker was against his wings, nose buried in his neck.

He resisted the urge to snap a photo. That Starscream loved two mechs enough to be caught in such an undignified activity as cuddling was absolutely sparkwarming.

"Prowl might truly short-circuit," Jazz said, easy grin still on his face. "Two strange mechs from an enemy city, and he had to let 'em in to cuddle with the second most wanted mech on Cybertron. Pharma briefed us a bit on trines, it ain't super surprising."

Grimlock was almost stupid enough to ask who the first was, but remembered in time it was him. It would be until this was sorted out, or Vos just went ahead and declared war. Best to stick in the dark part of his mind again, and call that healthy coping.

"It's the most soothed I've seen him so far," Grimlock said. "You can tell he plays at being relaxed, but his struts are always tensed."

"Oh, yeah," Jazz said, as if he'd been in a room with Starscream before this. It would also be stupid to ask how he'd know. "They're gonna get the full interview tomorrow, but I might be nice and send Skids. Get Prime to send Prowl home before his sire coding breaks his tactical unit or somethin'. He's  _ real  _ upset about that teleport generator and that it didn't show in body scans."

Even Prowl worked less hours when he had a newspark on the way, but at least he worked. The Lord High Protector still hadn't shown his face regarding their  _ very important  _ situation with Vos, and neither had Soundwave (the second most dangerous mech in the palace, though possibly dropped a ranking or ten while siring).

"Not that it's the kid's fault it didn't show," Jazz went on. "The magic of outlier equipment, right? Might as well leave 'em to rest and find you a temporary place to crash, my mech."

Grimlock had the sudden, pointless urge to demand they just let him leave for the night and go  _ home _ \--not to his military quarters, or his civilian place, but what was really home to him. The big habitation building in that quiet neighbourhood uptown, where Ratchet and Wheeljack had gone when it became clear they were going to overcrowd any apartment. Kids needed space, and the little ones shared rooms, but there was always a guest berth available for a visiting adult child. Grimlock could go home, see his parents, play with the little ones. Maybe even play a hologame with Hot Spot and Snarl, if they weren't too old to hang out with their uncool big brother. Let little First Aid doze off in his lap, and marvel at how fast the last of his baby siblings was growing.

They would never allow it. This was a house arrest, the nicest on Cybertron, maybe, but no denying it. He was lucky he wasn't waiting in a cell, for the Protector's tribunal to decide what to do with him. Giving Starscream back the life he deserved might very well have cost Grimlock a free one.

Maybe Wheeljack could bring the little ones around tomorrow again. Or Swoop and Slash could come, if they weren't working. But his family didn't have all the time in the world to comfort Grimlock over his own mistakes.

The mech he had blown his life up to rescue? Didn't even care what he'd sacrificed to do the right thing. So Grimlock said nothing, and followed a smiling Jazz back out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three seekers, chilling in a big bed, no feet apart because they missed each other so much


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grimlock had ruined his life for him, impulsively. He'd picked the wrong kind of mech to save, if Starscream was honest with himself.

"I demand a  _ real  _ room," Starscream said petulantly. He stretched out on his medical berth (double sized, for wings), and Grimlock watched Pharma roll his optics with disdain. "Now that I'm trined again, you should know we'll best thrive in an  _ open  _ space. So what we'll need is--"

"You're staying in your medical room, until we clear you," Pharma said again. His voice was flatter than the last three times, which was a dangerous precedent to set. Starscream would never let up if thought he was beginning to wear someone down.

"--We'll need three separate rooms," Starscream went on, as if Pharma hadn't said anything. "Well, maybe just two, those ones cuddle. All with their own balcony, no railings of course,  _ and  _ a room for entertaining guests as big as Grimlock's.  _ Also  _ with a flying balcony."

"Such a space doesn't  _ exist  _ in the Primal palace," sighed Pharma. "A space will be allotted to you soon, and you will be released to your trine's care. Which is not now."

"Are you telling me a  _ Prime  _ doesn't have the money for it?" Starscream drawled. "How tragic."

"No," Pharma sighed. He turned back to his datapad, because there came a point when it was pointless to argue with Starscream. "It's that they won't waste their time. You'll be comfortably housed the Iacon way."

"Hellish," Starscream said, flopping one hand over his face. Grimlock knew it was all an act, because it probably made the Seeker feel better, but he couldn't deny it was entertaining to watch.

His family couldn't visit today, and on days like that Grimlock found himself sitting with Starscream. With Skywarp and Thundercracker here he had bloomed, twice as infuriating and even more willing to push back against anyone he thought worthy of it. Grimlock saw the light behind his optics now, a beloved and validated Starscream who felt more powerful. Grimlock had finally admitted to himself that he enjoyed seeing it, out of more than the concern anyone might have for a mech he'd rescued. But it made sense, with the time they'd spent together so far.

It wasn't as if he had anything else to focus on.

"I think we have it pretty good, Star," Skywarp said. He'd gotten a game system somewhere, and was sitting upside-down in one of the visitor's seats. His feet were up on the wall, perilously close to an important-looking machine, but far be it from Grimlock to scold someone who wasn't  _ his  _ annoying little brother. "They special-ordered that huge polishing set for us, and the room we're in  _ now  _ is pretty nice, though Grim's berth was better--"

"--and they special-ordered  _ that  _ for me," Grimlock interjected. "So I'll be keeping it."

"Why are you around all the time, anyway?" Skywarp asked. He hadn't even looked up from his game. "Shouldn't you be busting Quintesson heads or something?"

"I'm a military liaison," Grimlock said, ignoring the jab in his spark. He'd learned the past week or so that Skywarp generally meant well, but thought very little about what left his mouth. "I used to bust heads with my squadron, but I was moved to other duties. Until the long-term strut damage is gone I meet with city-state military leaders, run drills, inspect, that kind of thing."

"That's why you were in Vos?" Thundercracker said. Sometimes he had a book, but he was looking out the window today. He didn't quite relax around others the way the other two could, and Grimlock had found him cooler in temperament once the initial emotions wore off. The staff had started using him to "translate" for Starscream, because Thundercracker seemed genuinely able to articulate what he might need, when outside the realm of completely ridiculous or a rudely given instruction. His answer for why was a shrug and that "he knew his trine really well."

"Yeah," Grimlock said. "But I was bored, so I went to the ground floor temple."

"See?" Thundercracker said, nudging Skywarp. "A little boredom doesn't hurt anyone."

"Skywarp can't get  _ too  _ bored here," Starscream said. "The chief medical officer found his teleport generator, and I'm sure he'll deactivate it if he goes somewhere stupid."

"That's  _ discrimination. _ "

"It's  _ using their brain modules _ . Remember when you appeared in the dean's office during that professor's interview? You  _ cannot  _ be trusted."

Pharma had just opened his mouth to say something withering, probably about not giving Prowl anything  _ else  _ that would threaten to send him on leave, when he narrowed his optics and pressed his comm on instead. Grimlock pretended to politely not listen, watching the three Seekers perk up in interest. Vosians couldn't resist a little eavesdropping, a trait they shared with most of Grimlock's siblings.

"Ah, Cosmos," Pharma said, relaxing. Grimlock relaxed too--it wouldn't be about him, or Vos. The Protector's consort was ready to pop with their latest sparkling. "Yes, I'm working palace shifts still, until our Seeker guest is cleared for flight...Ratchet is out, but you can pass along questions _... _ you've  _ what?! _ "

Pharma sounded remarkably like Ratchet, when a patient told him something ridiculous. The three Seekers all leaned forward a fraction.

"It wasn't the  _ first thing  _ out of your mouth? Primus--yes, I'll be there in a minute," he snapped. Pharma sprung into action then, grabbing a kit from one of the cupboards and making for the door.

"Someone die?" Skywarp asked. Pharma shot him a look so dark he shrunk closer to the floor.

"Quite the opposite," he said, partway out the door. "A consort's welcomed his newest sparkling, three weeks early, so I'll be going."

They listened to his heeled thrusters click briskly off, Skywarp now sat up off the floor in interest. Starscream looked astonished.

"How many sparklings is your Prime  _ having? _ " he said in disbelief. "I thought you said the smallest brat was six months or something. It's excessive."

Grimlock chuckled. For someone who claimed he was thoroughly uninterested in sparklings, Starscream complained about them a lot. He'd also asked which ones in the palace flew (a handful), and if they had asked about their  _ guest  _ (often). The older ones weren't allowed to make "official visits" until Starscream stopped being immunocompromised, not that Grimlock could imagine that going well.

"Breach is the newest, yes," he said. "That's why you haven't seen the high consort much, he's focusing on her. But no, Cosmos is the Lord High Protector's consort. There's a holiday declared for the Primal ones, but the Protector doesn't care for the displays."

Optimus didn't either, but tradition demanded them, and the Senate found him considerably less intimidating than they did Megatron. So he had acquiesced and allowed the parties (people loved it), and the Protector enjoyed his family in privacy. It probably wouldn't do to show their military leader as a useless, affectionate puddle anyway.

"I thought the Protector's consort was Soundwave," Thundercracker said. "The spymaster. Some wild rumours about that mech..."

Many true, though Grimlock only shrugged. "This is a polyamorous place."

"Well," Starscream sighed, flopping back on his berth. "Good for them, I guess. I suppose it means our great Lord High Protector will actually do something about Vos, now?"

Yes, Megatron would come down from his latest new parent high, check his documents, and learn that their problematic ambassador had destroyed the fragile alliance with Vos. Grimlock had managed to put that from his mind that day, but again it sat firmly at the forefront. In a few days Megatron would decide whether he should get re-acquainted with prison in his future.

"He'll be free to take that load, yes," was what Grimlock said. "You'll likely meet him soon."

Thundercracker had a small smile on his face. Grimlock frowned in confusion until he spoke. "I didn't tell you about my niece, did I, Starscream?"

Starscream sat up in surprise, leaning forward. "Niece? No, you didn't tell me our trine had a  _ niece.  _ Skywarp? You knew about this?"

Skywarp lifted himself to his elbows, feet still against the chair back. "Yep! We saw her once, she's a little cutie."

"Glory," Thundercracker said fondly. "Wingblade had her like...a vorn and a half after we lost you? But there was the whole thing with Cloudburst, leaving her trine, going to Polyhex--"

" _ What? _ " Starscream shrieked. He was clearly delighted by the scandal. "Leaving her  _ trine? Polyhex?  _ I'd pay good shanix to see your carrier's face, since  _ both  _ her kids are nuts now. Unbelievable."

Thundercracker didn't look terribly happy about whatever it was that had transpired, but he just shrugged. "Wingblade keeps saying we should visit her."

"Polyhex is a backwater," Starscream sighed, leaning back. "And your sister's a troublemaker."

"But you like her," Skywarp pressed, grinning. "She glued a whole auditorium to their seats once in secondary! What's not to like?"

The corner of Starscream's mouth twitched. "She's  _ tolerable _ , just like Thundercracker and you.  _ And _ I want to look over this niece of ours."

"A trip might do you good," Grimlock said. They all looked up at him, because the three Seekers tended to have conversations and forget entirely other mechs were there. Not all others (they seemed to realize which nurses were nosy), but certain people's presences they had deemed "safe." They often switched to Vosian, but not always. Grimlock, for better or worse, was now one. "Well, once Vos isn't out for all of our heads, and you're flight-ready. Polyhex has some cliffs you might like for takeoffs."

"Wingblade said that," Thundercracker said. "And now we don't need Vosian travel visas, I guess. We're not going back."

"Good riddance," Starscream said, but Grimlock saw his trinemate's sadness. It must have been a real punch in the tanks, to find out your beloved home was built on a horror that hit you so directly.

"Hey, Grimlock," Skywarp said. "Are you getting like, an awards ceremony or anything for what you did for Star? A promotion? You mostly just hang around here."

"Warp," Thundercracker hissed, as Grimlock's spark did a somersault. Skywarp was looking up at him, innocent and questioning enough.

"I'm the one who did the surviving," Starscream said, like his time in the cell didn't bother him at all. He waved one hand in Grimlock's direction. "I  _ suppose  _ he set it in motion."

That was the best kind of compliment Grimlock could expect to get out of Starscream, but his spark kept rolling anyway. Skywarp might be emotionally intelligent, but apparently only if he loved you enough. He huffed, trying to look like he was leaning more comfortably against the wall.

"I'm under house arrest," he said. "For my protection from Vos, since the palace is well-guarded--but mainly to decide what to do with me and have me where they can see me."

He could see Starscream and Thundercracker starting to get it, though Skywarp's stare was still fairly blank.

"You broke Starscream out of a crazy hell-temple," Skywarp said. "At, you know, great personal risk and stuff."

"I  _ also  _ set back planetwide Vosian relations by millennia," Grimlock sighed. "It was right to do, and I'd do it again.  _ But  _ the Vosians are currently withholding their taxes and flying squadrons until Starscream is returned, and myself along with them. It's a huge blow, especially with the Black Block Consortia pushing at our borders in space. Everything's currently at a standstill, and the Lord High Protector will have to step in soon to make decisions."

Starscream's face was calm, but his wings were hiked up. Alarm, Grimlock recognized. He could almost see his reflection in the white of his wings, which Starscream had taken to polishing since his trine had asked for more supplies. Skywarp and Thundercracker themselves had a few more years' worth of Vosian marks, but the difference wasn't stark next to their third.

"They'd better not be thinking of sending  _ me  _ back," Starscream said, looking at his nails. Skywarp and Thundercracker didn't hide their fright, and Grimlock shook his head quickly.

"No, the Prime wouldn't think of it," he said quickly. "The Lord High Protector probably wouldn't either, he doesn't think much of religion, but Starscream's a civilian anyway. It's the Prime's jurisdiction, and once Starscream is cleared medically, he'll have his freedom like any citizen."

"But he won't be safe," Thundercracker said, brows knitted. "Neither will we, honestly."

"No, not yet," Grimlock sighed. "Don't underestimate security and special operations here, though. They have a vested interest in  _ keeping  _ you safe."

"So you're under house arrest because of this sanction stuff?" Skywarp said. "That kinda sucks."

"Yeah," Grimlock said, voice wry. "It does. Starscream didn't do anything wrong except  _ be  _ wronged.  _ I  _ shook my handlers, trespassed, and by leaving with a sacred religious figure I broke the already shaky trust between the planetary authorities and Vos's. You'll know how independent they are."

"Yes, they're sovereign of their borders," Starscream said, sounding thoughtful. "They'll want you triple-tap executed,  _ and  _ they can't get another flightless one until I'm dead and the place is cleared of grounder or whatever nonsense. You really mucked it up for the Vosian priests, Grimlock. I have to admit I'm grateful for it."

"Like I said, I'd do it again," Grimlock said. This conversation was twisting his spark, but they had asked. Starscream was owed honest answers. "Anyway, I've been to military prison before. I was on thin ice when I brought you back."

Three pairs of Seeker optics, wide in surprise on him again. Grimlock saw in his mind's optic Wheeljack in the visiting area, shoulders shaking. Swoop clearly trying to look strong, walking both their parents out after the first visit. The cheerful little "see you soon!" cards the kids had made him at the time, that he hadn't been allowed to see till his release date. And the fact that he knew he'd go back if they made him. To do otherwise, to buck the rules again like a wild beast, would make life hard again for his siblings still in the military, and Swoop at the hospital. And for Snarl, whatever he decided to do when he grew up.

"What did you  _ do? _ " Skywarp said, gaping, but Grimlock had had enough. He got up from the wall, making a show of stretching like he was tired and relaxed. Unbothered by the thin ice he walked on.

"Don't worry about it," Grimlock said. "I have to go, anyway. If the Protector's about to be off his sire coding, he'll be looking into it all. I'm gonna read over my reports so it's fresh."

"Grimlock--" Starscream said, but he didn't hear the rest, turning and heading briskly down the hall. He'd find a quiet place in the one of the gardens, too, rather than risk Skywarp popping up in his room.

He tried not to be bitter, about giving up his freedom. No use shriveling up inside and ruining his family's life, again.

* * *

Bad dreams hadn't plagued Starscream since his freedom had been returned. When he was sick they'd been colourful and distressing, hallucinatory things, but mostly forgotten every morning. When he'd started getting balcony access, his recharges had been sound, his defrags worthy of Pharma's approving nod in the morning. His night stealing Grimlock's berth, close with his trine, he'd slept deep and well. He had woken with a peace he almost didn't feel right enjoying.

Then he had to go back to his medical berth, and Skywarp and Thundercracker were billeted further away on the floor. It wasn't much, certainly compared to where Grimlock currently lived, but at least they had a balcony. Apparently the washrack had a  _ bath,  _ which Starscream planned to whine about until he was allowed to step in it and soak.

And now? On the road to recovery, the only mechs who mattered by his side just paces away, and a number of people who mattered in the palm of his hand...

...and the nightmares woke him  _ screaming. _

Starscream couldn't tell if the wails were even his own vocalizer, or if they were a part of the nightmare. He'd burst out of recharge, chest heaving, his HUD orange with warnings about the interrupted defrag. He'd be punching the walls of his cell, then the lights would be flickering. Then ceremonies held at the ancient altar, a nightmare mass that lasted a hundred vorns and the high priest stood motionless, red optics staring at Starscream no matter how much he yelled, threatened, begged for him to look away.

Disgusted with himself, he threw his thermoblanket to the floor. It was a comfort he didn't want.

His comm unit had been installed, with Skywarp and Thundercracker here. In his mind's optic he hovered over their frequencies, about to make the call, when he stopped himself. With care, Starscream swung his legs over the berth's edge, and set his feet on the floor. He was no longer hooked up to so many monitors, and unclipped the two remaining ones painlessly. If he held the wall, and minded his step, he  _ could  _ walk now.

Grimlock's door was open a crack.

It wasn't his intended destination, but of course he was nosy. Any self-respecting Vosian picked up the good information where they could. Starscream peered through the crack, careful of his heels and not to step too hard, and saw the big mech sitting slumped on the edge of his huge berth. In his hands glowed a small cube, clearly a shot of something strong. His red visor was dim, and he looked much older than he was, framed by the moonlight streaming in.

Grimlock had ruined his life for him, impulsively. He'd picked the wrong kind of mech to save, if Starscream was honest with himself. Of  _ course  _ he deserved his freedom, all that he was clawing back...

...and Grimlock was a gentle giant, a family mech. He could talk about his siblings for ages if you got him started, and he lit up if a member of that brood visited with Ratchet, or their carrier. He had seen how Grimlock's parents worried over him, in a way Starscream's sire never really had. The Prime had put this mech in a gilded box until his co-ruler decided what punishment awaited him, for sticking it to Vos's evil.

It left a sour taste in Starscream's mouth, unfamiliar. Before he was taken, it wasn't like he'd gone out of his wayto be nice to other people. Not even his trinemates, really, who were used to it. They knew his "love language," or whatever nonsense Thundercracker called it, was to call them names and preen over their attention. He had dialled it up since their return, since it felt good, and normal. An admonishing look from Thundercracker, or a guilty look from Skywarp, kept him from driving them out. (His few other friends had long given up on him, in his before-life.)

Feeling sorry for other people wasn't in him. Or, it hadn't been. Mechs ought to figure out themselves what had them so miserable, so he'd told himself back then. He had had things to  _ do. _

No one to see him in the cells had ever felt sorry for Starscream. They had felt uncomfortable, at best, that he was not completely lost to the world, knew his torment just as clearly as the first day he'd lost the sky. The high priest had believed with all his spark that Starscream should be  _ grateful  _ to be there, to be the sacrifice that would give his beloved city prosperity.

The first mech down there to feel for him, in his pitiable, humiliating state, had been a dirtkissing beast. He had shattered his life for Starscream's, that much was clear. He had already been to  _ prison,  _ for spark's sake, though the nurse he'd asked had told him he didn't know why, and he wouldn't ask. It was a very disconcerting feeling. Survivor's guilt? No, no one had survived what Starscream had, and the uniqueness could remain a wild, powerful part of him. Grimlock had brought him out, but it was Starscream's mind and something in  _ his  _ own spark that had kept him lucid.

Not pity, either. Something told him Grimlock would hate it, even if it was something Starscream felt the need to feel. Maybe it was the frustration he could understand, then. Grimlock simply had to sit and wait now until his fate was decided, just as Starscream had, for vorns. Soon Starscream would be able to choose his own destiny again, however dangerous, and the only thing  _ really  _ off limits would be Vos itself. And to not return home was an easy choice. He would make a new home, with his wingmates close against him. He'd study  _ everything  _ he wanted, and not avoid sciences his sire once deemed frivolous. He'd fly every day, to the thinnest air, and show his prowess on the most dangerous currents.

Soon someone would come to tell Grimlock what he would, or wouldn't do.

_ Starscream,  _ said his comm. He jumped, and his heels clicked on the floor, but Grimlock only shifted on his berth. He stayed seated, looking at his knees, illuminated by the shaft of light from Luna-2 in the sky.

He looked towards movement to his right, and there were Thundercracker and Skywarp peering around the corner of the hall. They could be infuriatingly psychic about him, knowing exactly what he was up to and appearing to stop whatever self-harming action he was about to attempt. Carefully, Starscream turned away from Grimlock's door and towards them. Skywarp met him halfway, taking his elbow and noiselessly leading him back around the corner.

"What are you doing up?" Starscream hissed, as if they were the ones who had been spying. Skywarp tilted his head.

"Nightmare," he whispered. "TC thought taking me to sit with you might help."

Of course they had guessed it too, and Starscream could see it just from the look on Thundercracker's face. His trinemate shrugged, unrepentant, and took his place carefully at Starscream's other side.

"Your night nurse will be pissed," Thundercracker whispered. It was nice to hear him swear. "But since you're up already, come see our room. There's three berths, we made sure."

"We pushed two together," Skywarp said.

Starscream wondered if it was worth pushing the limits of vulnerability. He finally huffed out a sigh, as they made their way down the hall. "I...had a nightmare too. Tell  _ anyone  _ and I'll kill you."

"You were raised  _ so  _ emotionally constipated," Skywarp whispered, too loudly. "Nothing wrong with a bad dream, after what you went through."

"Shut  _ up, _ " Starscream hissed. "We're not all weaklings like you."

Skywarp shrugged. "Mine was about not being able to find you again. When they took you. It's a whole mess of trauma out here, Star."

That surprised him into silence, and his trinemates walked them the rest of the way to their room. Yes, the night nurse would be pissed, but at least they'd know where he went. There was no way his outlier trinemates weren't closely watched in this compound, after what he'd heard about their arrival. It was gratifying to know they had alarmed these powerful mechs so much, even next to the reminder they could be taken from him too, at any time. Thundercracker could break every window in the compound if he wanted (he didn't), and Skywarp had surely mapped the whole place in his tactical unit without even realizing. He could warp into the Prime's harem chambers right now if he felt like it (and would be tempted, though even that idiot knew better).

Skywarp and Thundercracker's room was smaller than Grimlock's, though just as well-appointed. It was painted in colours too bright for Starscream's liking, but there would be time to fix that later. Skywarp had already acquired a collection of video games, and the view-screen was the sort that folded out of the wall. The washrack's door was ajar, and it was bigger than Grimlock's. He could see the edge of the beautiful marble bath, where Thundercracker had carefully set out the polish kits. Most of the space was taken up by the two berths pushed together, and he could see that the third was set slightly apart, with a folded thermoblanket neatly atop it. The balcony had just as fine a view as Grimlock's, just smaller.

Thundercracker moved away from them, setting to push the third berth gently against the other two. Starscream happened to turn to his left, at Skywarp, and the grin he received made warmth rise in his spark. Normally he would stamp that sort of thing back down, into the vulnerable place under his spark chamber. He watched their third trinemate fuss with the thermoblankets, laying them out so they could all get back under.

"Be careful getting in," Thundercracker said, acting the fussing creche attendant.

"I can get into a  _ berth, _ " Starscream scowled, even as he curled up close to Thundercracker's shoulder, and let Skywarp snuggle in next to him. He'd never really let them do this before he was taken. Many trines were all lovers between them, a romantic triangle, but Starscream had valued his independence and privacy. He hadn't thought it a problem to stop interfacing with his trinemates, and cuddling had been out of the question. His initial instinct, to rest in his berth against the wall while the other two twined around each other, brought up the memory of scratching the days of his captivity into the wall. So he let himself drift off, warm and held close. They had always understood.

He woke up screaming again a few hours later, but this time hands were on him as he felt the hoarseness in his vocalizer and recognized it had happened out loud.

"Star?" he heard Thundercracker yelp, and it would have been comical if his spark wasn't still beating with the terror of knowing flight was lost to him, that they meant for him to go insane. Skywarp's finger was at the edge of his wings, pressed along it, soothing.

Dawn was greying the edge of the sky, past the view of Iacon out his trine's window. Traffic was starting to streak its way across the sky, in the early shift. These Iaconians didn't know the gift that flying was.

"I'll never fly again," Starscream whispered. The words left his traitorous vocalizer before he could bite them back.

He felt Thundercracker's head rest on his shoulder. Skywarp's hand touched his face (when had it grown wet)? His trinemate's voices were low, gentle in his audials.

"You're healing really well," Thundercracker murmured. "You  _ will  _ fly soon."

"We'll make sure of it," Skywarp said, and Starscream wished his brain module believed them. "We waited this long to fly with you again, we'll wait a little longer."

"The best flier in Vos," Thundercracker said. The words jabbed into Starscream, like the rough wall he had once hit his head against in the cell, when no one had been there looking.

"And if I can't fly again?" he croaked out. "If you're wrong?"

"We're not," Skywarp said. "We'll be here."

Thundercracker's hand stroked his other wing, and Starscream offlined his optics, darkening the dawn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is extra long! I think I'll be switching to weekly updates from now on, a little easier to handle and we had like 3 weeks of twice-weekly lol.
> 
> Congrats to Cosmos, for his prowess in popping out little Lord High Protector heirs! He will give his doctors a migraine
> 
> Oh, and TC's family are characters belonging to my friend Kenyastarflight, who she has graciously let me borrow again lol.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "There is a 43.76 percent chance that negotiations with Vos will improve if Grimlock is punished and imprisoned," Prowl said. "These odds improve over time, if consistency is shown."

Abruptly, Grimlock had been summoned for a tribunal.

An informal one, he was told. They would simply be updating Lord High Protector Megatron on the situation, so he could hear it from Grimlock himself and take additional time to make decisions with his advisors.

Since Megatron wasn't known for his drawn-out deliberations, it meant his fate would likely be decided in the next few days.

The most important mechs in Iacon, on Cybertron, had assembled in a modest conference room. An old holoscreen sat unused and the rickety table would feel more at home at the arts college downtown. Optimus Prime and Megatron spoke softly at the table's head, their huge figures comical against the modest furniture. At Megatron's side, Soundwave, who mechs said could read minds and Grimlock knew just well enough not to cross. Like the Protector, he'd want this over quickly, to get back to Cosmos and the newest of their brood. Jazz sat grinning at Optimus's right, scrolling a small datapad until the meeting was officially begun. Grimlock assumed he'd be playing placating High Consort today, not black ops. He wondered which role the mech preferred, glancing at the gleaming glyphs on his chest that marked him as Optimus's head partner. Prowl and Ironhide finished them out. Prowl was glancing sidelong at everyone else in the room, as if one of them was going to pick up Ironhide and sweep him off to steal siring privileges. For his part, Ironhide was watching him relaxed, almost approving. Grimlock counted himself lucky that _his_ creators were not so aggressive during their carriages.

(Wheeljack _had_ been contrite, that time he'd been banned from a big-box store for snarling at a cashier who glanced at Ratchet's chest seam. Grimlock had to clamp down on the memory so as not to laugh.)

The only high-ranking mech _not_ present was Ratchet, because it was his son's fate that would be discussed. Pharma sat in his place, making the effort to look impartial and not like he'd been Grimlock's doctor when he was a sparkling. There wasn't even a recorder present, as Soundwave was here. It was useless to waste a mech's time typing when he and Prowl combined could dissect the meeting backwards and forwards if the occasion called for it.

"We'll begin, then," Prowl said, right on time. All optics turned to him, then turned to Grimlock, where they lingered. He made what he felt was a valiant effort to look professional and unconcerned. "Typically this summons would have occurred within days of the incident, but our Protector's circumstances were extenuating--"

"Congrats, by the way," Jazz said, grinning. Prowl scowled, but Jazz went on cheerily. "Cosmos nesting with the little one?"

Grimlock studied Megatron then. To see him only at official events and on the holoscreen, the Lord High Protector looked his part in every sense. Tall, broad, the frame of a working mech who had risen up to the highest status one without the Matrix could manage. His presence was not diminished, but it was hard to be intimidated when at the mention of his consort his features softened. His fingers twisted together lightly atop his datapad, and Grimlock would have called his expression downright _moony_ if he didn't think Soundwave was grazing his thoughts.

"He's quite well," Megatron said, clearly pleased to indulge Jazz about Cosmos. "He'll probably enjoy the respite from two fussing sires, in fact."

Sires would be sires, and Ratchet said Megatron got like this every time Cosmos gave him a newspark. A little more easily distracted, a little more softened. The whole gaggle of his sparklings were soft, round little things, indulged and thoroughly unsuited for their sire's work. His offspring were their fierce Protector's only indulgence. Ratchet claimed Soundwave was even worse, he just didn't have to face the public about it.

Jazz's grin widened. "Good to hear. I'll go up and see the little one later. Do my high consort duty."

"Yes," Prowl huffed, as if he wouldn't be in Megatron's place in six months. "To get back to the _subject_ of our meeting, Vos has asked for the extradition of Grimlock, yet again."

Megatron frowned. Grimlock had no doubt he'd pored over it all already with Soundwave, backwards and forwards. Their Protector hadn't crawled up from the mines to this position without an incredible mind, and it wasn't often that Grimlock had been this close to him. Grimlock's first major transgression had not been important enough to Cybertron for the Protector to step in formally, and he had dealt with Ultra Magnus and the military tribunal instead. That would happen here if he was found criminally responsible for the trespassing and, well, doing the total opposite of an ambassador's job.

"It's safe to call it foolishness to even consider returning him," Megatron said. "My guess is the rest of this room will agree."

There were nods and murmurs of assent, and Grimlock had expected that. His spark eased with relief anyway.

"Out of the question," Optimus said firmly. "The Vosian Senate has made it clear that his punishments would likely break as many laws as their holding of Starscream did. Returning him is a cruelty."

"Unfortunately, so are their sanctions," Prowl said grimly. "Social services and stopgap measures are being put in place for the cities most affected, but the fact is Vos sits on uncommonly large crystal and silver deposits. That's not even getting into the energon and trace ores. Raw export out has slowed to a crawl. It will soon affect industry off-planet."

"The unrest is spilling out of Vos into their border cities," Soundwave said. His voice was soft and deep, unsettling even when one had heard it before. "Either mechs there are enraged their religious figure was rescued by a grounded mech, or furious at the state he was kept in. Starscream's interview was never aired there, but has circulated widely illegally."

Naturally--Skywarp and Thundercracker had seen it, and slipped out immediately after. It had been wise of them to leave when they did, but it must have been more desperation than anything. They would be next after Grimlock and Starscream for the authorities to get their claws on.

"The expectation from the Vosian elite is Iacon will come to their aid in returning their...property," Prowl said. His lip had curled in obvious disgust. "They have argued repeatedly with our diplomats that assisting them in this matter is a part of their independence treaties, and we have infringed on a cultural practice."

Grimlock could tell, from the looks on their leaders' faces, that this was only going to make their resolve deeper.

"Vos is not exempt from mech rights laws," Megatron growled. "I ended the gladiatorial death matches, and they should not get a chance to continue these other tortures. They haven't tried to replace this Seeker?"

"Has to be dead first," Jazz said. He sounded cheery, almost unsettlingly so. Grimlock hoped he wasn't enjoying himself. "They keep hammering that home to Skids. Their 'flightless one' can _only_ be replaced upon a natural death, or Primus will bring curses onto them. Something like that."

"They attribute the protests, unrest and sanctions to Starscream being removed," Soundwave said. "I am afraid we've offered Vos too much secrecy in their affairs, after my observation of the events. They have been lying to our faces about their religious practices, and the two escaped Seekers indicated they were intimidated and threatened due to their searching for Starscream. This is not even addressing the rampant alt-mode discrimination, the wealth inequality."

Fury was rising behind Megatron's optics. Grimlock feared very little, except making Wheeljack cry, but he was grateful now that he was not currently the one on the Protector's bad side. He wondered, unsettled, if Megatron would march into Vos if he were allowed to. Optimus only looked sad, like this had all been on him to monitor alone, and he had failed.

"Grimlock," the Prime said, the first time he had been addressed this meeting. He straightened up. "You were provided guides for your visit?"

Grimlock nodded. "I would call them handlers," he said. "I was only left alone in my rooms, and they accompanied me everywhere else I wished to go. They were hesitant to take me to the temple's ground floor."

"Did they seem aware of why?" Soundwave asked. Grimlock met his visor with his own steadily, but did _not_ enjoy being the subject of its gaze. Vos _should_ be nervous, of the concentration of power in this room.

"No," he said. "They were hesitant to _say_ why, but my suspicion was a combination of its religious significance, and being so close to ground. My guess is they knew Starscream _was_ there, but believed him a volunteer. Based on what the three Seekers have explained about Vos," he added quickly.

Megatron raised an optic ridge. "And, as detailed in your report, you bribed them to enter the temple alone."

Grimlock sighed. No one looked all that visibly disappointed in him, but it was frankly the least problematic thing about the situation. A fireable offense, but not one Grimlock regretted at all now.

"Yes," he said. "There's no excuse for doing so during my time there, sir."

"No," Megatron said. "You're a poor military liaison for it. That being said, you uncovered horrific actions and behaviour in doing so, and it's commendable that you've given this young mech a new life."

"Starscream is a medical marvel, at this point," Pharma said, speaking for the first time in the meeting. "It is indeed commendable of Grimlock that he gave him a chance at recovery."

Ratchet would be relieved that someone stuck up for his son. Grimlock would let him know, if he could bring himself to talk about this with him.

"I regret the ongoing situation," Grimlock said. He may have rehearsed this a little, and he was relieved to sound calm. "I don't regret my actions in Vos, not after discovering Starscream the way I did."

Megatron's optics glittered. "Neither do I."

Grimlock had the thought that this powerful, frightening mech would have done the same thing, if he had uncovered such a conspiracy. Lacking fliers or not (many of the posted Seeker squadrons had returned from Iacon to Vos in the fallout), there was no doubt in his mind Megatron would march on Vos if he thought it was the best way to end this.

"Still," Prowl said. He looked a little weary already. "Though Grimlock acted in a way I hope any of us would, his behaviour leading _up_ to the rescue is enough to strip him of his status as an ambassador. Given that the role was probation already, after the situation with his lightning strike force...you have put yourself in a difficult position, Grimlock."

"Yes, sir," Grimlock said, so he only had to endure the stares for a moment. "I'm aware."

"I think his old record's irrelevant," Jazz said. Yes, placating consort, today. Since Optimus was a soft-spark, Grimlock guessed Jazz mainly backed "We weren't the ones handling that concern. This one _is_ a little bigger, but without Grimlock's bad behaviour in Vos, their religion would still revolve around torturing an innocent mech."

Soundwave's expression couldn't be read, though a hand rested on his chin in thought. "It is possible to placate Vos somewhat if Grimlock is reprimanded for his professional transgressions," he said. Grimlock's spark rolled in dread. "Bribing city-state officials and failing to complete his tasks, primarily."

"The usual punishment would be stripping of his rank and a steep fine," Prowl said. "Possibly prison time. While his military record is not, arguably, our concern, it _does_ factor into his case."

"Run the numbers on that, Prowler," Jazz said. The look he gave Grimlock was reassuring, but he met it stonily. It was hard to look anything but when your future was on the line.

Prowl, allegedly, could calculate the speed and trajectory of 800 moving options at once. So it only took him a second to close his eyes and run through the odds of Grimlock's fate helping them sweeten Vos.

"There is a 43.76 percent chance that negotiations with Vos will improve if Grimlock is punished and imprisoned," Prowl said. "These odds improve over time, if consistency is shown."

"I'd prefer a bigger number," Megatron said.

"Me too," Prowl said dryly. "It's the best we're getting, since we're keeping Grimlock and our Seeker."

Optimus looked woeful, nearly pitying, and Grimlock hated it so much that he had to force his shoulders to relax. He was grateful for the mask and visor, but it could still express plenty, compared to someone like Soundwave. He _wanted_ to tell Optimus it could be his job to tell his friends he was jailing their son for politics. Even if it made _perfect sense_ to do it, and Grimlock couldn't blame them for wanting the good of the planet.

"The decision should be made within a few days," Soundwave said. "Skids will be speaking to the Vosian delegate again before the week ends."

"Send him my condolences," Ironhide said, grinning in Jazz's direction. If another small tribunal like this occurred, Grimlock doubted he'd see him at it again. Carriage leave generally started early, and in the Prime's service it came at full pay.

"It feels like a punishment for him," Optimus said grimly, looking at Grimlock. "When he's saved a life."

Megatron looked less moved. His fire from before had passed. "Had he not found this Starscream, but his behaviour was discovered, he'd get the same reprimands. Grimlock, you'll be informed of our final decision within three days' time, then. This is acceptable?"

Nods and murmurs of assent. At least the waiting part would be over soon. At least he already knew how to handle prison.

Pharma met Grimlock's optics then, but he only offered the doctor a shrug. He'd tell his own parents how it went, when the final verdict was reached.

* * *

"Well?"

Grimlock pulled the pillow further over his face. It was pathetic, hiding from the world, but soon he'd have to harden himself again, and he could indulge in a little self-pity. He'd planned to do it alone, but naturally Swoop had found the time to visit again the one day he didn't want to look anyone in the face.

"Well, nothing," Grimlock said. "It's undecided. But it's probably prison again, and I don't know how long."

"Oh." He heard Swoop's slim frame drop onto the berth's edge. "You really think they would? After you saved someone's life?"

"I might have started a war _and_ a recession," Grimlock said. "It turns out keeping Vos sweet was keeping a huge part of the planet's economy and military going. They've stopped exporting silver and goods, and are mobilizing their own fliers at the border. I'm sure Megatron figures he can pardon me after they've flattened them and enough people have written in."

Swoop had gone quiet, and he worried that he'd gone too far with those words. When Grimlock got hauled off to a cell to appease Vos, it would fall to him to be the oldest sibling again, trying to smooth the edges of their distressed family. Swoop was good at many things, but he'd push and try too hard, and get over stressed and snappish. He might even start to blame Grimlock for causing the trouble, and Grimlock himself couldn't blame him for that.

"I didn't think Megatron was that much of an aft, then," was what Swoop said. His voice was soft. "You uncovered...what, a death cult? A society that relies on one mech's suffering so everyone else feels secure. So _you'd_ be ritually punished for doing the right thing, and show the planet where it gets you. It's bullshit."

Grimlock huffed, and it was almost a laugh. After a moment, he reached out his hand, where it found Swoop's smaller one.

"I thought you'd be pissed at me," he said. "I remembered how it was last time, when it happened."

He dared to look past his pillow, and found Swoop _smiling._ "Yeah, well, last time all I saw was Wheeljack crying all the time. And Sludge and Slag punching all those walls. You were easy to blame, so--shit. Guess I'm no different then Megatron, am I? You did the right thing back then, too. You saved our siblings' lives."

That's what Grimlock had told his tribunal back then too, entirely unrepentant. _The only cost of my disobedience was one retreat on our record. I brought my squadron home alive. Had I followed your orders, General, I'd have a perfect record and no brothers, no sister._

"They might never get the lightning strike force back the way they want it," Grimlock sighed. "Our siblings _or_ the Protector. I don't regret it."

It was hard to think of his strike force these days. Harder still to know he saw the siblings that made up his Dynobots less often, because its loss had so pained them. Sure, being stationed elsewhere was _temporary,_ and when they did all speak they told each other it was fine, they'd be back out on missions together again in no time. Grimlock knew it was a relief to their parents, that almost half their sparklings weren't constantly in the thick of danger together any more. Grimlock commanding his siblings had always been questionable, and as an officer Grimlock himself had wondered if he would have let another set of soldiers do it. But the results were undeniable: they were the most fluid unit in the planet's military, never failing in synchronizing, _never_ losing a mech or a target.

Slash worked on base now, and she probably liked the consistency and the relative quiet. But she'd thrived in the field too, speedy and cunning, against both enemies and security systems. Sludge and Slag were his bruisers, and even if school had never come easily to them, the physical did. (Grimlock had always used them to win demonstrations against the Wreckers, to their endless ire.) Those two were still heading off on missions as part of other units, and they were the ones he was confident would obey the orders of others safely. At least, he'd asked them to do their best about it. Slash was planetside for a reason--she was prickly and independent, like Ratchet. Like _Grimlock_ , whose independent streak was the reason they were all here to begin with.

Paddles was happiest of all with the Dynobots broken up. He'd gone and gotten another doctorate, in the relatively frivolous field of xenobiology. Grimlock had promised to read his thesis, as carefully as all of his little brother's weapons and armour proposals as part of his unit. Besides Streetwise and Groove, still only toddlers, only Paddles shared Grimlock's carrier, and they'd always been extra close as a result. He thought his brother had been more broken up about losing that nearness than anything about the job.

"Me neither," Swoop said finally. It was a relief to hear, and pulled Grimlock from his thoughts. "You won't regret bringing Starscream out, either. Even when you think you do."

Grimlock leveled him a look. "What makes you think I _would_ regret it? We're getting along, as much as he can with anyone. He has the opportunity to live a life again."

Swoop grinned. "Because carrier says he's insufferable. High-strung, demanding, ungrateful..."

"Are you sure he wasn't talking about you?"

A second pillow hit him with a soft _thud,_ and Grimlock retaliated with his own. It nearly knocked Swoop flat, but did nothing to dislodge his grin. Grimlock finally lifted himself to his elbows to regard Swoop, who looked relaxed and playful now. Not the worried, second-eldest brother of a huge family, preparing for his closest brother to be locked up in Garrus-1 again for refusing to follow the right rules.

"If you go to prison _again_ for doing the right thing, I'll be the one raising hell," Swoop said. "They won't know what to do with hundreds of petitions, letters to the media, family profiles..."

Grimlock groaned. "You wouldn't."

"I would!" Swoop said, and he was serious again. "Carrier will help me, trust me on that. Optimus is probably telling him all about this already, and I promise he was _already_ pretty incensed about you being stuck here. He's tamping it down for your sake. And all over 'a little Vosian prat,' according to him."

"Sire doesn't hate Starscream," Grimlock sighed. "He's pissed, but you know how he is. He'd never blame him for any of this after what that mech went through."

"Cares so much about everyone," Swoop agreed. "I'm gonna remind him to show it to you, too. He's so proud of you he forgets you'll still glow under the extra attention."

"Like you?" Grimlock said.

"Ha. Yeah, I'm a carrier's mech all the way," Swoop said. "Just like you. You should spill all these feelings to Wheeljack. You'll feel better."

"Don't want to make him cry," Grimlock said, more softly.

"You might," Swoop agreed. He tapped Grimlock's arm. "He'll cry _more_ if you go to prison all bottled up, I promise. Give him the time to straighten it all out in his head and he'll have to feel braver. The twins are still on the bond, too, so he's been trying to practice mindfulness or something."

Carrier bonds leached emotion, and it meant mechs with sparklings sometimes had to be careful they didn't flare out too much, get too angry or upset by what they could help. Apparently there was a lot of debate in medical circles about whether or not long-term damage could result from parental distress. Grimlock had wondered once or twice, if he was so messed up because of Wheeljack's fear his little beast-mech would be taken away from him. He hadn't been alt-mode exempt, at his emergence.

"We should get everyone here for a visit," Grimlock said. "At once. If I'm really getting locked up again I want to see all the kids, and...I dunno. Have a drink with sire, wrestle with Sludge."

"Hey," Swoop said firmly. "You're not about to die. They won't _leave_ you in there. But it's not a bad idea, you're right. Paddles is home tomorrow, you'll probably hear from him the second he lands. So you really could get everyone."

Grimlock's visor flickered in surprise. "Not in two weeks?"

Swoop shrugged. "Sounds like he wanted to see you." Grimlock watched him play idly with the thermoblanket, half-hanging on the floor, and how the mischief reappeared on his brother's face. "You _are_ just gonna end up playing juicy meat the whole time, though. Just so we're clear."

Grimlock's laugh rumbled in spite of himself, and it felt good. "I don't mind juicy meat," he said, and he meant it, even if it was the world's strangest game. "Carrier and sire said twelve is enough sparklings, and anyone playing juicy meat is little enough I don't have to miss them being all cute yet."

"You're such a sap," Swoop said, grinning. He fell back on the berth, and Grimlock knew he'd probably be here all afternoon. He also knew that now he'd appreciate the company. "They _are_ cute, but I'm not a baby person like you. When they can all talk to me coherently and like, use the washrack by themselves, that'll be good."

"I'd like one of my own one day," Grimlock murmured. "Always have. It's hard to feel like a big miserable lug when a baby's wanting ups."

"Your only weakness," Swoop said, grin still easy. "You're so soft in that spark of yours, y'know. Inpenetrable armour, my aft."

"Heh. You're not wrong."

There would be no newsparks for him, Grimlock thought. The temporary peace of his brother's presence couldn't chase the thought away. There would be no one wanting more than a fling with a violent, ornery ex-con who destroyed careful alliances, and he'd have to content himself with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Grimlock Depressi Upsetti Spaghetti hours! Offered to you for free in this trying time


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starscream just beamed. "I'm a medical marvel. Anyway, Lord Protector, you do sound very sure of your decision. I'll make sure that's clear in the interview."

"No. NO!"

"Starscream, for once can you just--"

" _ NO, I CANNOT! I WILL NOT!" _

Starscream was loud--he lived up to his name, and he was entirely fine with that. Today he was more than loud, he was  _ livid.  _ He hoped his tantrum would reverberate to the Primus-forsaken Lord High Protector himself so he could live in fear of who he'd displeased.

Pharma looked exhausted, haggard even. He generally took pride in this kind of thing, defeating his "opponents," but today he hated seeing proud Pharma looking worn down. He had no right to be tired, when there was work to be done. Starscream straightened up, flaring his wings in the universal Vosian sign of a  _ pissed-off mech,  _ feeling healthier than he had since before he was taken. He would yell in Vosian too. It was an ideal language for it.

"You'll send this mech--who saved  _ my  _ life--to prison?" Starscream demanded. "My precious life?! He should be getting a Primus-damned medal for sticking it to the Vosians, and  _ you  _ agree!"

Pharma sighed. "I do agree," he said. "Grimlock did right by you. His punishment is based on his behaviour as an ambassador--"

"-- behaviour which resulted in my being here!" Starscream snapped. "Speaking to you! I thought the Prime was all over freedom as the right of sentient beings or whatever slag. Am I next? While we're keeping Vos sweet to get their crystals up our afts?"

"Starscream," Pharma said. He straightened up, his optics sharpening, and Starscream smiled a little. That was more like it. "Vos has not just been sanctioned, and denied the rest of Iacon its exports. There are protests in every neighbourhood there, and mechs are dying. That might please your self-centred spark, but it  _ is  _ spilling out into the whole planet, and we might end up with a war. The hope is Grimlock's time in Garrus-1 will show Vos some...contriteness, for affecting their religious rights."

Starscream's hands shook. Oh, he knew Pharma disagreed. He'd told Starscream that he'd been Grimlock's doctor when he was a sparkling, had delivered him. He was friends with his carrier and sire, and knew full well the dangerous intricacies of Vos. He had left for a reason. He was also the only sounding board for Starscream's rage that he had available, so he would use him for all he was worth.

"What's there to be contrite about?" Starscream said. " _ 'Sorry we caught you psychologically torturing one of your people? Our bad, we've jailed the criminal responsible?'  _ Give me a  _ break,  _ Pharma! I'd bet ten shanix you bribed at least three people in your life there! I did!"

"You don't have ten shanix," Pharma said wearily.

"I don't!" Starscream shouted. "My accounts were frozen and my life destroyed by Vos, so no, I can't make that bet. You know  _ why  _ I have a chance of clawing anything back? Grimlock! That damn dirtkisser is the only reason I have anything right now, and who  _ cares  _ if he was a shitty ambassador? Good! That place doesn't deserve anyone making an effort on it!"

"I'm going to assume insults are your terms of affection," Pharma said, rubbing his temples. "Starscream, I  _ agree  _ with you. I'm only passing along the information I just learned, after I was outvoted. He doesn't deserve prison again, but our leaders and their advisors have decided on that."

Starscream still hadn't learned why Grimlock had been locked up the first time. He was close-lipped about it, and learning wouldn't help him feel any better. "Where's the Lord High Protector of ours now, then?"

"Going to give him a piece of your mind, are you?" Pharma said, sighing. "He's likely in his private quarters, being a new sire as he is. I won't tell you where that is, since you're fool enough to go."

"I'll just have Skywarp teleport around until he figures it out," Starscream said, narrowing his optics.

"Then that's two of your friends in jail, and you stupid to boot."

Starscream threw up his hands. "I'll request a formal meeting then, or whatever I have to do. Our  _ Lord High Protector  _ ought to come greet the mech at the centre of this mess anyway, so he  _ will  _ see me."

Pharma was looking defeated, now by him. Starscream was confident he'd get to Megatron more easily than his doctor hoped. And oh, they would have  _ words.  _ But he'd sit a little while before he continued his tirade before their military leader. Yes, he deserved that, and ignored the  _ slight  _ wheeze of his vents as he returned to his berth.

"Don't waste Grimlock's sacrifice for you  _ again,  _ then," Pharma said. Of course he had noticed. Insufferable. "I know you'll go off and do something stupid, so--" he paused, touching his comm unit and tilting his head. "--I'm putting in your request for a meeting now. He ought to have stopped in to see you anyway, even if civilian affairs aren't his jurisdiction."

"When he carpet bombs Vos for me, he ought to remember the face he does it for," Starscream said primly. "I knew you'd see it my way, dear Pharma."

Maybe if he pushed hard enough, _ dear Pharma _ would develop a spark condition and retire early or something. It would disappoint Grimlock to hear him pushing buttons so thoroughly again, especially when the mech was  _ on Starscream's side,  _ but this kind of thing was de-stressing. It wasn't like he was being given much else to do.

"Have you thought much about what you  _ will  _ do, upon recovery?" Pharma asked. Changing the subject--the mark of a losing mech. Starscream shrugged, looking noncommittal, but he  _ had  _ been thinking about it quite a bit. When the trine was recharging and he couldn't bring himself to, there were always datapads to scroll.

"Return to my studies, mostly likely," he said. "I planned on a scientific career before I was taken."

"The military must have been knocking your door down before graduation," Pharma said, tilting his head. Even speaking Vosian, Starscream kept forgetting he had lived much of the same experience. "A high-ranking flier like you. Your trine tells me you were quite good up there."

"The best," Starscream said, knowing the praise was a distraction. It was working. "I was years ahead of my cohort, you know--I will be again, soon. My sire was disappointed I wouldn't be following in his footsteps, but I can learn how to kill other mechs once I've proven how much smarter I am than all of them."

Pharma looked exhausted again.  _ That _ was more like it. "Studying would do you good. Primus knows you need things to do. I'll pass along that you'd like university materials, and you can request the specifics. Your options are  _ far  _ more varied in Iacon."

"Everything is," Starscream mused, frowning. "Jobs, studies, where to go and what to do. Unless you do the right thing in a place where you can't, I suppose."

Pharma's optics hardened. "The Protector will welcome your thoughts on it, I'm sure."

The Protector, as it turned out,  _ did  _ have time for him that day. Someone must have given him his comm frequency, when he was told Megatron would be making his way down to meet with the former flightless one. After Starscream had knocked on Grimlock's door (no answer), and then grabbed his trinemates (canoodling), he made sure to look at ease on his hospital berth, relaxed as he studied educational streams on his datapad.

Oh, he'd gotten his yelling out, as he was sure Megatron had heard. It didn't mean he was even remotely calmer about the whole situation, and the most effective military leader in Cybertronian history was  _ not  _ prepared for the mech he would be about to face.

"Are you not...nervous?" Thundercracker said finally. He was sitting up far too straight. Megatron had not arrived yet, and Starscream had bookmarked a promising-looking chemistry stream at the university his sire had most disapproved of. "You're meeting the most terrifying mech on Cybertron in a minute."

"That's a popular misconception," said a deep voice from the doorway.

Starscream saw both his trinemates jump, out of the corner of his optic, but he made a show of lowering his datapad slowly. Megatron was here, filling the doorway of the medical room. The hallway outside was conspicuously quiet, the guards and staff likely hiding out until their ruler took his leave. He was broad, gunmetal-gray, with sharp red optics that held a mind Starscream might grow to respect. It depended on how this went, and whether Megatron would act appropriately.

"I would argue Soundwave, my spymaster, is far more intimidating," Megatron said calmly, stepping through the door. "It is the nature of his work. Let me apologize for not greeting you sooner, Starscream of Vos. My consort was recently delivered of a newspark."

"Congratulations," Starscream said lightly, not remotely interested in yet another brat filling up this palace. "Thundercracker, Skywarp, relax. If he wanted you in prison, you'd be there."

They both stiffened, and Skywarp actually  _ saluted,  _ but Megatron only nodded politely in their direction. It didn't matter if he thought Starscream's trinemates were idiots, he'd be right anyway. This wasn't about them.

"I understand," Megatron said, as the door shut behind him, "that you've befriended Grimlock, the mech who rescued you. His circumstances, and ours, are not ideal right now."

Starscream placed his datapad on the end table, to sit up properly. He set his wings in a neutral, calm position (not like this lug would notice), and smiled. Looking at the Protector up close, there was no danger of Megatron being taken in by something as false as one of Starscream's smiles. This mech was not stupid. That was good--it would make this a little fun, too.

"Befriended is a strong word," Starscream said. "That being said, he's been gracious since coming here, giving me access to the outdoors--vital to my health, you see--and is a decent enough companion. For a grounder. Anyway, I hear you plan to lock him up for saving my life. This is unacceptable."

Megatron sighed, the huff of an old mech with too much to do. Starscream wondered where he got the energy to knock up that consort of his.

"Grimlock already carries a military criminal record," he said. "As well as that, he's caused the complete breakdown of our relations with Vos, ending trade and causing significant civil unrest. We are not  _ locking him up  _ for doing the right thing, which was removing you from the clutches of those fool priests. The hope is his being taken into custody may soften their response to their own people."

Starscream smiled again, and sat up straighter. He knew it was a good face, because Skywarp looked away uncomfortably, and Megatron's optics smouldered a little darker.

"Vos won't be sweetened up by such things," he said. "You're wasting your time. Frankly, giving them an inch is dangerous, because they  _ will  _ keep demanding Grimlock,  _ and _ me. You already have us safely in place."

Oh, it  _ was  _ fun, to make this powerful mech's face darken. He had a temper, not like Optimus Prime, who would only have been made sad by this discussion. Starscream hoped he'd have more opportunities to bemuse this Megatron.

"And you know so much about the political workings of Vos?" Megatron rumbled. "You are very young, Starscream. Idealism will get us nowhere, and it is my job to make the harder decisions, ones that protect a greater majority of our people. Those old mechs in Vos can and will be intimidated, and this is a step towards that."

"You sound," Starscream said. "Like a golden age ruler. 'The greater good.' An odd choice for a revolutionary."

Skywarp looked ready to teleport himself and Thundercracker right out, and yes, admittedly Megatron was starting to look frightening. Starscream wasn't worried about them--he had that magic Primal protection--but he could see why one might be concerned, as the Protector came more slowly towards the berth. Starscream had, after all, called him away from his perfect little family to be an inconvenience.

"You're too young to know anything of the  _ golden age, _ either," Megatron said softly.

"Of course," Starscream said, smiling again. He flicked his wingtips up once, a warning. "I'm in the flower of my youth, or something. Which was damn near plucked, considering where I spent the last three vorns. No, Protector sir, I've not been privy to private Senate meetings, but I  _ have  _ seen every Primus-forsaken ceremony that Vos's important mechs did at my little altar. Mechs talk, you know, milling about after praying over my frame. There were concerns already that 'the grounders'--that's your government--would find out about me and ask questions. I'm sure they just thought someone would let slip and someone else would do digging."

Megatron's optics narrowed. "Your point?"

"My point," Starscream continued, "Is that imprisoning Grimlock is wasting your time. They'll go ahead and do whatever they want over there anyway, unless you let them take his spark out themselves. Most importantly, though, it enrages  _ me  _ that you would do such a thing to my rescuer. Getting me out of that place when no one else could be bothered is grounds for  _ rewards,  _ not prison time. You should reward him for pissing off the priests too while you're at it."

"You run your mouth a lot, for a very sick mech," Megatron growled. Oh, he was getting so  _ angry,  _ and he couldn't take it out on his target. Maybe Starscream  _ should  _ go military one day, to rise through the ranks and be a thrilling thorn in their Protector's side.

Starscream just beamed. "I'm a medical marvel. Anyway, Lord Protector, you do sound very sure of your decision. I'll make sure that's clear in the interview."

Megatron's expression changed rapidly, from darkened to utterly confused. "The what?"

"Oh, I'm calling my friend Rewind," Starscream said, already punching in the comm. Might as well introduce the dramatics now, too. "The one who got me on every holoscreen this planet offers? I'm a public figure now, and I'd like to make a statement about the treatment of my rescuer."

Megatron looked undeterred, and his bulk was now looming over Starscream and his trine, his optics snapping. Oh, maybe in a different situation he would have been nervous. Grimlock had frightened him before, unintentionally doing the same. But he'd correctly guessed that Megatron would be more deliberate about his size. A strategy to oppose Optimus actively pretending he was still a twinky little archivist.

"How ridiculous," Megatron huffed. "You won't be calling anyone. I've provided you confidential information for context--"

"And I didn't sign an NDA," Starscream said. His interviewer's cheerful voice appeared on his comm then, and Starscream widened his smile. "Rewind, are you free soon for another talk? I have insider information you'll want to hear about the situation in the Primal palace."

Megatron's optics went brighter. What a wonder, that no one had warned the Protector that Starscream could not be intimidated! He'd heard the dumpy captain of the guard was carrying too, meaning his bad-taste partner Prowl would be distracted,  _ and  _ Starscream had a window to exert some power. It would be a shame if city-states found out the extent their leaders could be felled by a little lack of birth control. Unbelievable.

"Soundwave," Megatron said. Rewind's excited greeting was tinny in his audial, but Starscream kept his optics on Megatron.

"Yes," Starscream said. "We may have to complete it over comm, but I have information the people of Cybertron will want to--"

His comm snapped off. In the corner of his optic, he saw Thundercracker and Skywarp startle in surprise. Starscream realized the  _ entire  _ radio network in this wing of the palace had been disabled. He stared at Megatron, trying to detect panic, but the old mech was standing there stoic.

"I assumed I had freedom of communication?" Starscream said, straightening up. "What a shame. The network will be back up soon, though, I'm sure. Clever of your spymaster to have such skills."

"You don't cross Soundwave," Megatron said, and it should have been a warning. Starscream caught the defeated sound of a sigh instead, and smiled. "Rather than  _ threatening the security of this entire palace,  _ Starscream of Vos, tell me what you're looking for. I'm told you have a mind for more than spitting gossip."

"It's very simple what I want," Starscream said. His wings sat high now, pleased with himself. "Don't incarcerate my rescuer. Of course he made a poor diplomat--a good one would never have found me. I'm sure we can work something else out if you meet that simple request."

"Work something out--" Megatron started, optics flaring bright again. He paused, pinched the bridge of his nose, and sighed. Starscream had aged him a year in five minutes, or so he hoped. "We can and will deny you and--" he waved his hand at the trine, who visibly flinched, "--these two the right to free communications, if you prove yourselves a danger."

"What a tragic threat to add to my interview," Starscream said calmly, ignoring the twinge in his spark. "Further locking down a mech who's suffered so. I'm sure I could crack Prime over that, even if I can't you."

Megatron's optics narrowed. "You're lucky you've suffered so much, at this second. My patience is thin for those who threaten my people's safety, or cares nothing for his own."

Rewind had commed him back, as communications returned to the area, but Starscream messaged that the interview was off. He'd have sweet gossip to make up for it another time, he was sure. "Just tell me you won't imprison Grimlock, and I'll behave. Very simple."

The Lord High Protector of Cybertron, gladiator of the pits, leader of their armies, miner from Tarn, stared at Starscream. Maybe weighing if it was worth hauling Starscream off too, and dealing with the softspark Prime's consequences after? Megatron was clearly a fascinating mech, and  _ should not  _ have come to speak to Starscream without backup. He would only make that mistake once, if he knew what was good for him.

"Fine," Megatron spit. Then he spun on his heel and left the room.

It was another minute, waiting for Megatron to be truly gone, before his trine burst.

"Primus, Starscream!" Skywarp wailed, optics wide. "They already want to put us in jail for the outlier stuff!"

"You're talking to the most powerful mech on Cybertron that way?" Thundercracker said. His voice was a little high-pitched with distress. "Starscream, they  _ could  _ give you back to Vos! All of us! You heard him, there's probably gonna be a war over you!"

Starscream waved his hand. "Please. We're under  _ Primal  _ protection, and Optimus is a cyberkitten. We're fine."

"Grimlock might not be," Thundercracker said, more seriously. "They might decide it's better to give  _ him  _ over if you're gonna make it difficult for everyone. He'd be pretty safe in Garrus-1."

"And you obviously like him enough to go to bat for him," Skywarp added.

Starscream narrowed his optics. Then he flicked his wings and laid back with a huff. "Don't be stupid. I don't like  _ anyone,  _ not even you two that much."

"Sure," Skywarp said. "That's why you snuggle  _ every night  _ you're in our room. Because you hate us so slagging much."

Thundercracker nodded, leaning forward in his chair. "If you didn't care a  _ little,  _ you'd wave Grimlock off to prison. You don't have to deny that you feel feelings, and you talk with him like every day in his quarters."

"Nothing to be ashamed of," Skywarp said. Starscream hated when they ganged up on him. It truly wasn't fair, and they'd had an extra two years to get even closer and figure out how to agree and corner him.

"Fine," Starscream snapped. He threw a hand over his optics. "He's tolerable. He says what he means, and Primus knows that's rare on this planet. Hundreds of people saw me in that cell, you know that? Brought down for religious ceremonies, high-ups in the government and priests and all that. Not  _ one  _ of them thought to question that I was there."

His trinemates looked uncomfortable, which he supposed was fair. They  _ did  _ love Starscream, enough they had kept looking for him, and he'd been nearby the whole time, in torment. They hadn't  _ lived  _ it, so they could relax already, and he didn't want to think about it all too hard anyway. He returned the thoughts of his cell to the box where he kept his trauma, and smiled.

"A fragging beastmode grounder was the only one who did anything," he said, after a moment. "If nothing else, I  _ do  _ owe him something for that. So I can use my  _ vast  _ intellect to keep him out of prison. It had the added bonus of figuring out just what I can get out of our Protector, anyway, so I think it was absolutely worth it."

"Oh, wow," Skywarp said. He was leaning forward, wings tipped up excitedly and an infuriating grin on his face. "TC, he  _ really  _ likes Grimlock."

Thundercracker nodded, expression infuriatingly serious. "Absolutely."

"I always knew he liked them big," Skywarp said. His nod was sage.

It was easy enough to whack him with the datapad, from this close a range.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Starscream: 1  
> Megatron: -0
> 
> You've gotta have backup with that one, Lord High Protector


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So you owe it to your Seeker that you got a stay, do you?" Ratchet was saying. "I had figured he only liked his Seekers. And barely."

"So you owe it to your Seeker that you got a stay, do you?" Ratchet was saying. "I had figured he only liked  _ his  _ Seekers. And barely."

Grimlock, bouncing First Aid in his lap as the sparkling dozed, was only half listening. Things still felt strange, in limbo, so he'd decided to empty his head and enjoy his family. The sunlight was warm on his plating, the west garden theirs for the day, and the kids were just happy to see him.

"Mm," was the clever response Grimlock came up with. "He's a strange, prickly mech. I didn't think where I ended up mattered to him."

"I guess it does," Ratchet said, with a look Grimlock couldn't quite place. "Megatron's pretty upset, but  _ I'm  _ not. Whatever keeps you out of a cell is fine by me."

It would be, but that would only work for so long. The riots in Vos were getting worse, and Iacon would need everything they had to sweeten the city without shedding energon, or losing their valuables. It would be simple to overpower them, but not  _ easy,  _ with all those military-grade fliers. Grimlock in prison would have helped their case, for appearing apologetic about just having to remove their religious lynchpin.

But he couldn't be sorry about staying where he was, not for now.

With Paddles home, the whole family--all fourteen of them--were in Iacon. It meant Grimlock's little goodbye party had turned into a sort of celebration. He wasn't in prison after all (for now), and that was something worth appreciating. If nothing else, it was good to see grins on his siblings, and to have the little ones run and hug at his legs, wanting to be picked up. It had been awhile since they were all together.

"When you were born, most likely," Grimlock murmured, to the toddler in his lap. First Aid had missed his afternoon lie-down, and Grimlock didn't object to being his place of rest for an hour or so. "We were all together when you were born. A bit  _ after  _ I last got out of prison."

Wheeljack's finials glowed a happy blue, Groove on his hip, even as he pulled Blades back from trying to kick Snarl. It seemed their brother had scored more goals than Blades had in their game. Sludge was sprawled out on the lawn in his alt mode (his preferred form), with Streetwise taking his own nap atop his head. Paddles was taking macro photos of the rare crystals they kept out here--maybe to document them before Blades aimed his kicks at expensive Primal gardening. More likely to put on his Mechagram, an activity he claimed was "relaxing" between his studies. Swoop was laughing at something Slag had said, sitting under the tent-shade they had put up. Hot Spot was on his little datapad scrolling something, which sounded about right for his age. Grimlock would have to remember to give him some extra attention before he left, in case he felt lost in all the activity. It wasn't easy hitting your big upgrades and all that weird new code. Even worse when you were smack in the middle of twelve considerably louder mechs.

"I guess it has been that long," Slash said. Grimlock looked up in surprise--he'd thought she had been dozing near Swoop. His only sister was grinning crooked at him, one of her many game systems dangling from her hand. She probably had more time to play since being moved from Grimlock's command, so that was something. "I was thinking last new year's, but Paddles wasn't home."

Grimlock retracted his mask, so he could grin back at her. "Poor middle brother. I'll tell him you forgot about him, you watch."

Slash dropped down next to him, stretching her legs out and setting the game system in her lap. "He was there a couple years  _ before,  _ I just got mixed up. And you were doing your time then, so I guess it's you I forgot."

She nudged his side playfully, and the reminder of where he'd been didn't hurt. Grimlock shifted more comfortable, careful not to dislodge the sparkling who had curled up comfortably against him.

"I was sorry I missed it," he said. "But I got out in time to see this one, and got my new job, so I wasn't too fussed."

"You'd think they were your babies," Slash said, grinning down at First Aid. "Not carrier and sire's. The kids are excited about that Seeker of yours, believe it or not. Since their big brother's a hero who saved his life."

Grimlock huffed, but in his spark he was pleased. "Starscream doesn't like kids. He's pretty full of himself, though, so he might appreciate the thought."

"I ought to thank him too," Slash said. She turned on her game, but playing while she talked would help her focus. Slash was like that--a distraction, for her optics and brain module and hands, kept her audials on task. "He kept  _ my  _ big brother out of prison a second time."

Grimlock sighed. "Well, for now he did. I think it'll happen sooner or later."

"Then  _ I'll  _ call a journalist," Slash said. "Swoop's ready to raise hell, and so are your Dynobots. That's what carrier said Starscream did, by the way. He had Rewind on the comm to tell him and Soundwave had to cut radio waves entirely."

Yes, Grimlock had heard about that, and he wished he'd seen it. But his spark thrummed unhappily anyway. "You're not my Dynobots any more."

Slash glanced up from her game. She'd brought an easygoing one, for a relaxing day. You built a little house on an island, and made friends with cute little mechs. Very popular, so Grimlock had been told.

"We'll  _ always  _ be your Dynobots," Slash said. "Even if the lightning strike team was disbanded. If our leaders won't fight for you, we will."

"I...thanks," Grimlock said, feeling a little foolish. He'd been an idiot at work,  _ that  _ was why he'd rescued Starscream. He'd started to wonder if he even deserved his family's firm belief in him, but here they were, as intense about it as ever. "You're okay where you are now?"

"Me?" Slash said. Her face broke into a grin again. "Oh, yeah. Being on base is easy work, and the physical tests are nothing. You're  _ way  _ more infuriating to work for."

It was Grimlock's turn to nudge her, against the shoulder. "If you weren't in line for me, you wouldn't have followed my stupid orders back then. Gotta keep you all alive for carrier and sire."

Slash took the moment to press against his shoulder, leaning. She was closer to their parents' sizes than Grimlock's bulk, but her much bigger brothers had all learned she hid sturdiness. She could  _ lift  _ Grimlock, if she felt like.

"I hope we can follow  _ your  _ orders again sometime," she said. "And they might need us, if things go south out in Vos."

Grimlock smiled. "It might be you in charge this time, if they call the Dynobots back," he said. "I doubt I'll be trusted with much more than wrecking stuff."

Slash's optics went hard at that. "Well, you're more than that," she said fiercely. She probably would have said something more (she was opinionated, like Ratchet), but they were distracted by Paddles's cheerful voice.

"This is a private party," he was saying. Grimlock looked up from First Aid's little helm and saw Starscream, standing at the edge of the lawn. Behind him, peering behind a copper hedge, were Thundercracker and Skywarp. That's why Starscream stood with such poise, then. He always had an extra air of control when he knew he had his trinemates behind him.

"I know," Starscream said primly. Grimlock sighed, shifting First Aid's weight into Slash's arms so he could stand. "I don't mean to intrude on your sitting around, I just need to speak with Grimlock for a moment."

His brother looked relieved when he turned and Grimlock was moving towards them. He nodded reassuringly, touching his shoulder as he passed. "I've got it, Paddles. Don't worry about it."

Grimlock caught Starscream's wrinkled olfactory at the name, but most mechs did that with poor Paddles. He liked it just fine, or he would have changed it when he got old enough. Grimlock had, along with two of his brothers (though he wouldn't have picked the names  _ Slag and Sludge  _ himself).

"Don't be long," Paddles said, smiling at him. So sweet, their Paddles. Even still a little rounded at the edges, at his age and as tall as Grimlock. "Carrier will fuss about you leaving."

"He will." Grimlock motioned back to the garden, where he knew his parents were watching, before he gave Starscream his attention. He looked better, his rescued Seeker. He wasn't to do anything strenuous yet, but he'd walked down here with minimal help from his trine, well-polished and winged perked high. The only thing similar to Grimlock's first sight of him were those optics, so bright and calculating. "I'm with my family, what do you need? You know I'm just down the hall."

"Yes, forgive me," Starscream said, not the least bit contrite. "But you don't always answer your door. I have things to ask you."

That was Starscream, fixing things so it was most convenient for him. Grimlock had heard already that he wouldn't be allowed to meet with the leaders without their mechs present, lest he outplay them again being ridiculous. He wished he'd seen that discussion with Megatron, or Soundwave's desperate effort to block that interview.

"So ask," Grimlock said. Starscream  _ wasn't  _ wrong, about him avoiding answering his door. Or avoiding speaking when he did, showing the trine to the balcony and grunting any answers to their questions. He'd known Grimlock would put up with him with his family around, behaving himself. He took such pains to be careful around the kids. They weren't even scared of him if he got angry in their line of sight.

Starscream looked at his claws critically, like Grimlock was an irritation he had to put up with. Grimlock watched his wings instead, something he'd been learning to do with these Vosians. They were held high, perked with interest. "You saved my life. You uncovered a vile practice and humiliated my captors, and us being free and safe continues that. There's not many mechs like you, Grimlock." Starscream turned his optics on Grimlock's, burning into them, and Grimlock swallowed a feeling he couldn't explain. "So  _ why  _ does everyone here act like you're some criminal? No one will say  _ why  _ you were in prison, or why you're on such thin ice, and I want to hear it from you. Pharma won't tell me anyway."

Grimlock stared down at the Seeker a moment, at the mech's defiant, demanding optics. He sighed.

"My family will be here late," he said. "But I'm not recharging well, so come tonight at the shift change, and we'll talk. Bring your trine if you want."

Starscream looked skeptically at him. "And you'll be bothered to answer the door?"

"I just agreed to," Grimlock said. He straightened up. "I value my family as much as you do your trine, that's all. See you then."

Starscream looked ready to protest, his wingtips quivering--before he sighed, nodding once. "Shift change, then." Then he strode back off, snapping his fingers in his trine's direction, and three pairs of wings rushed back off into the palace.

"An interesting mech," Paddles said behind him, a smile in his voice. Grimlock returned his grin crookedly. His brother was the sweetest person alive, and that meant sometimes Grimlock forgot his good-natured mischief.

"That's a term for it," Grimlock said, deciding for a moment to stand with Paddles rather than return right away to their family. "There's a reason Starscream survived what he did. He's a demanding mech."

Paddles's smile turned mysterious. Grimlock's other siblings used to tease him, about him having a favourite brother, and they were being ridiculous. But he'd always been a little extra protective of Paddles, sharing a carrier as they did, and he bet they'd be the same about Groove and Streetwise one day too.

It was also that Paddles was so  _ sweet,  _ with seemingly none of the wild edge that marked his other siblings. Paddles was calm, thoughtful. So impossible to make lose his temper that Grimlock worried a little about the day it would finally happen. Of course, now his little brother was looking at him with sparkling optics.

"You like him an awful lot," he said after a moment. "For such a demanding, stuck-up mech."

Grimlock stiffened. "I feel a little responsible for him, yeah," he protested. "I told Swoop, I don't think Starscream likes  _ anyone.  _ He's a very  _ interesting  _ mech, but he's difficult. He'd tell you so himself."

"You're tripping over your words," Paddles said calmly. "He  _ is  _ difficult, but he's not your project. And it's not like a Seeker isn't attractive."

Grimlock  _ sputtered.  _ "Paddles! He's  _ vulnerable,  _ I wouldn't--"

Paddles grinned. "Not in this, he isn't. For a mech who doesn't like you at all, he sure sought you out."

"You  _ just  _ met him," Grimlock said, knowing his visor was too bright and it was  _ embarrassing.  _ Who was this mech and what had he done with his little brother?

"Pharma sees him every day, and he complains to Ratchet, who tells carrier, who told  _ me,"  _ Paddles said. "I'm not a gossip, so he can gossip to me. Which means I can tell you honestly what I'm hearing."

"You're worse than Swoop," Grimlock said wonderingly. Paddles grinned, turning back towards their family.

"Oh, I am," he said. "I'm not dancing around it. So let me know how it goes, okay?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Paddles is my favourite deep-cut fandom dinosaur. a perfect boy


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Someone like you won't be forgotten," Grimlock said. "You've already made an impact, but I know you mean through your actions."
> 
> Starscream didn't answer for a moment, that was just long enough for Grimlock to start worrying. When he looked up from his cube, his optics were sharp.
> 
> "You're not going to want information in exchange, are you?" he asked, surprising Grimlock. More surprising still was that he sounded unsettled. Vulnerable. "About my life?"

Grimlock's family had left well after the kids' recharge time, and he had helped his parents bundle the little ones up in thermoblankets. (He had handled wriggling, unhappy Blades, who would doze off as soon as he hit Ratchet's seat.) Missing proper naps, and the amount of palace candy consumed, had made for whining sparklings. And he'd take whining sparklings any day over the silence of his room now, a drink on the table, waiting for Starscream.

He  _ tried  _ to keep his thoughts on the unrest and his sentence, he really did. Maybe Paddles was playing some kind of 4-D Kalisite chess game to get Grimlock's mind off the inevitable, talking about Starscream like Grimlock was  _ courting  _ him. Really, all he had done was carry conversations--arguments, often--on his balcony, now most often punctuated by Thundercracker's thoughts or Skywarp's chatter. There hadn't been much alone time about it. Grimlock had seen Starscream at his absolute lowest, something he was sure the Seeker abhorred. They were in completely different positions and spaces in life, and even  _ if  _ Grimlock felt such things for him it would be inappropriate to pursue him. Starscream would have his pick of suitors when he was fully recovered, successful as Grimlock was sure he would be.

And Starscream had made his subconscious stance on  _ dirtkissing beasts  _ clear.

No, Grimlock told himself, glancing at the door. That was unfair. When he had given Starscream his warning, he  _ had  _ stopped, replaced with only the usual Vosian optic-rolling at non-fliers. Grimlock wasn't even sure he could call that discrimination, when it seemed Vos was so steeped in it. They'd have to deprogram it out of those Seekers, and they were probably young enough to figure out such things didn't matter all that much.

He wanted to lie here alone, take another shot, and think about how ridiculous Paddles had acted. One looked in Starscream's optics because they were  _ intelligent  _ and  _ compelling,  _ and he bet even Megatron would agree with him there.

So of course this wasn't a night he could be alone. Starscream would be along any minute, with his two loyal trinemates at his wings, to pick Grimlock's brain about the worst year of his life.

When the knock finally came, sharp and rapping, Grimlock seriously considered ignoring it, and avoiding Starscream's inevitable fuss. He didn't want to deal with him of all mechs tonight.

Starscream wouldn't trust him again after such a stunt, he was sure. Not after he'd told Grimlock to his face to open the door. So he keyed in the code from his berth, watching it slide open to reveal the silhouette of a Seeker. Just one, with those burning red optics, not flanked by two similar-looking mechs. Grimlock sat up straighter, and gestured to the chair nearest his berth.

"No trine?" he asked, as Starscream crossed the room on his long legs and sat languidly in the offered seat. You'd never know he had months of recovery to go, from the way he walked this room like he owned it. He was always polished to the nines now too, regardless of how he was feeling, and his scant Vosian markings caught the light at the base of his wings.

Grimlock was gonna kill Paddles for digging up these thoughts.

"Oh, they're fragging," Starscream said. The same way one said their friends were recharging, or getting their nightly energon. "I'll fill them in later."

Grimlock raised an optic ridge. "They don't mind you telling random people they're interfacing?"

"Why would they?" Starscream said. He held up one hand, examining his claws. "It's what they were doing, I'm not offering  _ details.  _ Do you have anything besides booze, by the way? It doesn't settle in my tanks right now."

"Regular cubes, yeah." Grimlock eased himself off his berth and towards the dispenser, ignoring the bottle he'd left open on his side table. Maybe he ought to just throw it all out, instead of doing shots all melancholy in his room. He didn't need an addiction on top of everything this year. "If you tried a little engex against doctor's orders, I won't tell."

Starscream huffed, in a way that made Grimlock sure he had guessed right. "Of course I tried, I can hold my own. But my traitorous tank  _ can't  _ yet. I like amethyst shavings, by the way."

Grimlock did, too, so it was lucky he had a shaker to dole out a generous amount. He could have guessed this Seeker had a sweet tooth. He set the cube down next to Starscream on his way back to the berth, easing himself down. It was built for mechs his size, but he'd heard it creak with stress before.

Starscream smirked at him. "So careful! I didn't take you for an old mech."

"Older than you," Grimlock huffed. Such a brat, and he'd been admiring the mech's legs? Unbelievable. "You finished a general degree, yeah? You're Paddles's age, the one you met. Or thereabouts."

"A Cybertronian ought to live longer than the time it takes to get a general education," Starscream said. He took a sip of his energon, and apparently finding it satisfactory, took a longer one. "It doesn't matter. It only means I have an eternity to make my mark, doesn't it?"

Grimlock was young for a Cybertronian, too. His size and his history belied it, and it was easy to feel old when most of your siblings had only met you as an adult. Still, their kind lived such a long time. Starscream's eternity had been stolen from him and only snatched back by luck, and now he had a clean slate.

It really was impressive, how many stupid decisions Grimlock had crammed into his life already.

"Someone like you won't be forgotten," Grimlock said. "You've already made an impact, but I know you mean through your actions."

Starscream didn't answer for a moment, that was just long enough for Grimlock to start worrying. When he looked up from his cube, his optics were sharp.

"You're not going to want information in exchange, are you?" he asked, surprising Grimlock. More surprising still was that he sounded unsettled. Vulnerable. "About  _ my  _ life?"

Grimlock shook his head, frowning under his mask. "Course not. I told you to come so I could tell you why I went to prison. Your story's yours to tell, and..." he shrugged. "I saw where you were before. I could put it together."

Starscream nodded, and Grimlock was careful to look at his wings. Held a fraction lower than before, but not dipped. More relaxed.

"Good," he said, more fimly. "Then it wouldn't hurt to start talking. What did you do, that's so awful no one want to speak about it?"

Grimlock tried to relax his own shoulders, and couldn't quite hide the sigh that had escaped him. These days people didn't gossip so much about him and his strike force. His siblings had fit in fine in their new places. Safe to say civilian life better suited Paddles than the military ever could. But some still stared when he had to show up on base, and he knew people had asked his parents, his siblings, if he was  _ safe. _

Not long ago at all, Starscream had thought him a beast. So this wasn't very easy.

"I did a general education degree out of school," Grimlock began. "Mostly because my parents wanted me to, in case I changed my mind about the military. But I knew I'd do pretty well there, with my size and my abilities--"

"What abilities?" Starscream asked. Grimlock should have guessed he would interrupt.

"My sentio metallico is unusually sturdy," he said. "I'm very strong, even for my size and alt mode. My strategy and reflex assessments have some of the highest scores in military history. Ultra Magnus called me a point-one percenter, when he finished the exams and the physical came through. He's one, too, so he would know."

Starscream nodded, looking thoughtful. "I've heard of those," he said. "You know that's rarer than being an outlier, right? The Protector and Prime both have that kind of spark. Not that a lot of people bother looking into it."

Grimlock shrugged, feeling a little sheepish. His parents would never be displeased, with a son so remarkable, but they  _ had  _ been worried. There were expectations on a mech like him already, good or bad, so he didn't discuss the fact that his spark was tinted green. It was irrelevant, unless he was being dropped on a battlefield.

"It's in the name," he said. "Point-one percenter, and all. Some people can guess, but it's not a thing I go around bragging about. It's not like being an outlier, anyway. Nothing I can do is at out of the realm of possibility as, say, sonic booms and teleportation."

Starscream smirked. "I suppose not." Then his face dropped, into something more serious. "But you've just told me."

"Yes," Grimlock said, and he hoped the severity of that left his voice. "I did. The people that matter know. Can I finish my story without an interruption, now? I'll answer your questions after, if you have them."

Starscream's cheeks darkened, and Grimlock was glad his mask was on. He could smile in peace.

"Yes, whatever.," the Seeker huffed. "Go on, then."

Grimlock tried to relax. "I went up through the ranks quickly after that, and my timing was good. The Black Block Consortia is always skirting our space, trying to move in on the colony worlds, and from the other side the Quintessons had begun raiding outposts. They're an ancient race, think mechanical peoples ought to be their slaves. They're wholly unpleasant, and I was good at routing them." Grimlock chuckled. "Apparently I was the first they learned of beast modes. I hope I alarmed them."

Satisfied Starscream wasn't about to interrupt again, Grimlock continued on. He had never spoken like this, about his career. "So you saw my siblings. Half of them have beast modes like mine, and they're not point-one percenters--but they  _ are  _ all unusually strong and sturdy for their sizes. My next brother Swoop went to medical school, but Slash, Slag, Sludge,  _ and  _ Paddles all joined the military too."

Their parents had not been happy. He might have even called them devastated, when their sweet Paddles signed up too, an engineering degree under his plating and a need to prove himself. But far be it from Ratchet and Wheeljack to tell their sparklings to do something else with their lives. It was an honourable career on this planet, after all, and only some of that time was spent in combat.

Grimlock smiled to himself at Starscream's face, at that parade of names. He could only imagine what he'd have to say when he learned poor Slag and Sludge had  _ picked  _ their own.

"Slash worked in communications, made a name for herself doing that. Slag and Sludge are very close, and they're a force of nature when you're fighting the two of them together. Paddles was an engineer, though he's pivoted totally to xenobiology these days. I was away a lot, but sometimes I could train with them all. Slash and Paddles would build upgrades and weapons, and I had a lot to teach them about technique. Eventually someone noticed we might be a cohesive unit, so my lightning strike coalition was born. But everyone called us the Dynobots."

It was a silly nickname, but Grimlock liked it, and so did his siblings. It had suited the five of them, shoulder to shoulder. He had been ridiculously proud of them all, seeing them come into their own. Most importantly, he could keep his optics on his family when things got dangerous. These were the parts he most enjoyed thinking about.

"We never failed. It's not a brag, it's the truth. If a unit was struggling, or the Wreckers had a mess to clean up, we were brought in. We almost always got through without a scratch, even when it was a whole mess of Sharkticons, or something ridiculous like that. I take care of my own," he added, more firmly. " _ Especially  _ my family."

"So it went on like that for a few years. There's a bit of a gap between Paddles and our next brother--Hot Spot--but our parents started having more kids. To keep the house full, I guess, we were away so long. And once we got called in from a leave early. I didn't like that, because my carrier had just had my little brothers, but you go where the military tells you. They were sending us out to this moon base near Prion, and the Quintessons had razed the colony. Whoever was left on the base was evacuated, but they were gonna use us as a last-ditch effort to hold the energon mine. It was profitable, I understand."

His hand curled into a fist, but Grimlock didn't bother to uncurl it. It still made him angry, and Starscream was staring hard into his optics, with that hallmarked intensity Grimlock was so fascinated by. Quiet, clearly  _ wanting  _ to interject but holding himself in place. Grimlock was almost impressed.

"So we went, early, with a force led by a General Strika. Don't get me wrong--I respect that mech, her career has been very impressive, and she can beat  _ me  _ in a sparring match. What happened wasn't her fault, really. We get to this moon, and it's nothing new for us. Slash jams their radio signals in the vicinity, which always throws Quints, and we cut through them. But I guess I miscalculated somewhere, because at some point my brother Slag got hit bad with a grenade. I saw him go down, how a good third of his plating was ripped right off. Internals visible, energon everywhere. Sludge goes  _ crazy,  _ roaring, and so do I."

Grimlock had been working on his degree when Crash was born--as Slag been called back then. He'd held him as a newspark, burped him, put him down for fussing naps. And he'd regret every day being stupid enough to bring  _ any  _ of those baby siblings anywhere near what he had. He knew the vent in was deep and shuddering, but it was all he could do to keep calm for Starscream.

"I knew General Strika was ordering us back, because our job is to defend the mine,  _ not  _ our brother. I didn't care, though, I take care of my own. My brother's life is worth a thousand fragging mines. I was furious, and so were my brothers and sister. But when Strika gave the order again, I gave my own. My siblings were good soldiers, and they were ready to listen. But I told them again to do anything to end this, and they did." Grimlock paused a moment--not for dramatic effect, he had no time for that. Because the explosion of pink was still bright in his mind. "Paddles handed me a grenade, and I blew up the mine. The Quintessons retreated, because the only thing they wanted was now useless. I blew off half  _ my  _ plating, but I got Slag back in the shuttle and the medical care he needed. I pretended I couldn't hear a word General Strika said. So when we got to base we were all put under arrest."

"They even cuffed Slag, who couldn't  _ sit up,  _ and I argued with the general until she threatened to sedate me. So I transformed and snappedat her with my jaws...and she really did sedate me. We got back to Cybertron, and Slag got whisked off to hospital, but the rest of us were booked in for disobeying orders, destruction of state property...the whole thing. I also earned threatening a superior. In the end Slag got off with nothing, of course--all he did was get hurt. The others tried to argue about helping take the fall, but we'd already seen our parents cry when they visited us in the cells, and it was me in charge. They would have followed what I asked them to do, and that's what I convinced the enforcer of the Tyrest Accord of. They were all demoted, but otherwise released. I lost my rank and served four months in Garrus-1. Which was getting off easy, we think, because Ratchet is Chief Medical Officer of the Prime. My siblings kept their places, but Paddles was disillusioned. So he left the military, and I think he's better off."

Starscream's optics were large, watching him, and Grimlock didn't think he was thought any of less of now. So that was something. He sighed, deep and heavy, and knew he sounded older than he was.

"I figured they'd start throwing me on the front lines with the infantry or something, since I couldn't be trusted to give orders. After all, I had proven myself a wild beast. But I'm betting nepotism stepped in again, and the Prime spoke up for me. And that's how I ended up training mechs in other cities and sitting in on unbelievably boring meetings." Grimlock retracted his mask then, so Starscream could see his grim smile. "I used to be supervised, you know. They'd send a diplomatic corps mech with me, and I'd behave because I can't stand making my carrier cry. He will, if I go back to prison. Vos was my first outing alone."

Starscream's wings were hitched so high that Grimlock wondered if the joints hurt. He was leaning forward, elbows on his knees and chin in his hands, so at least Grimlock could tell a story. He had never told anyone all of this, not from start to end. There had been no one  _ to  _ tell, when his only real friends were his siblings anyway.

"Thank Primus they were stupid enough to send you out  _ alone, _ " was what Starscream chose to say. And Grimlock couldn't help it. He had to cover his mouth to hide his grin.

"Yes," he said, and his shoulders shook slightly. "Thank Primus I'm a restless fool. You wouldn't be sitting here."

"Then all your oh-so-terrible transgressions were worth it," Starscream said. He was smiling now, too. "I hardly know what they  _ expected  _ you to do, though. No wonder this planet is going to slag, if they thought you'd value a stupid energon mine over your brother."

"They let me command my siblings," Grimlock said, shrugging. "They really shouldn't have, sooner or later this would have happened."

"Then what they did isn't even your fault," Starscream said, his vents huffing. "They were foolish to expect differently. A point-one percenter is wasted following orders. We have that in common, in fact."

"Why is that? Did you check your spark for a green tint when you came of age?" Grimlock asked, teasing. Starscream sputtered, and Grimlock knew he was absolutely right.

"Could you blame me?" Starscream asked, and Grimlock chuckled again. "I  _ am  _ one of a kind. It's not narcissism to know it!"

"You are," Grimlock agreed. After, he wouldn't know what possessed himself, but his hand got a mind of its own and took Starscream's wingtip between his fingers. "These are fluttering. Don't bluster, you  _ are  _ unlike anyone I've ever met."

Starscream was staring at his hand, where it held the sharp tip of his wing.

And suddenly Grimlock was frozen. What was he  _ doing,  _ touching him without permission? Like they were two mechs in a bar looking to find a back room? Instantly he jerked his hand back, and  _ something  _ crossed Starscream's face, something Grimlock couldn't read. Those wings flicked again, then pressed closer to Starscream's back.

"Sorry," Grimlock said quickly. He sounded like a mech new into upgrade, foolish. "I--"

"Your dentae," Starscream said, to his surprise. Starscream  _ leaned forward,  _ and Grimlock was frozen again, as the Seeker's face came closer to his own. Seeker-class mechs often had such similar frames, and the Primal staff had commented on such when Skywarp and Thundercracker had arrived. But Starscream had a sharper face than his trinemates, one that complemented his sleeker body. The shape of his optics was distinct, their brightness unique. "I didn't notice. They're sharp."

Grimlock stared for a long moment. Maybe Starscream's optics were hypnotic to anyone who looked too close. Skywarp and Thundercracker put up with an awful lot, after all.

"It's common for beast-mechs," he said finally. "My siblings all have them. We don't know where we got the coding--"

"You're no beast," Starscream said sharply. He was staring at Grimlock, so hard that he resisted the urge to look away. The Seeker stood, crossing the few steps between them and leaning towards Grimlock's face. They were optic to optic, with his bigger frame still seated. Starscream's nose almost touched his.

"You're a sentimental fool, with no self-control," Starscream said. "You come from a ridiculous life. Don't use that word."

Grimlock stared at him. He knew his visor had narrowed, but it was because he was too surprised to have anything intelligent to say yet.

"You didn't have a problem with saying it before," he said, stupidly. He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth, and Starscream's back snapped straight like a rod.

"Forget it!" Starscream said. He looked alarmed, his optics sharp and bright. "Forget it. Thanks for agreeing to explain. About prison."

"Starscream--" Grimlock said, as the Seeker crossed the room to the door.

"Goodnight!" The door snapped open, then closed in a rush. The Seeker's heels clacked swiftly back down the hall.

Grimlock sat stock-still for a long moment, staring at the door. He finally turned his head slowly, to look at Starscream's unfinished energon cube. He had forgotten it as soon as Grimlock had begun to tell him about his life, and the Seeker had listened intently, as promised. He could have sworn the other mech's edges had begun to soften, staring at him. He had so many shields up, that Seeker, all bluster and casual cruelty to remind mechs nothing could hurt him. If Skywarp and Thundercracker knew his softness they didn't speak about it, but Starscream  _ felt,  _ all right. He felt so much, all the time, that he had insisted on packing it up inside his traumatized spark underneath everything else.

Grimlock groaned, and flopped backwards on the berth. He knew he'd be here all night, staring at the ceiling and wondering what it was, exactly, he was living right now.

Later (he had dozed after all), a comm came through from Thundercracker.

_ Starscream's sorry,  _ it read.  _ Don't worry. This is just how he is. _

It did nothing to relax him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> putting Starscream on a callout list for "being into teeth"
> 
> I want to say again how much I appreciate the positive response to this fic! It really means the world to me.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grimlock had thrown out his engex after Starscream's late visit. With nothing to help him recharge, and no news about his fate, he felt a little like he was watching his own life from the outside.

New Year's was coming up, sooner than Grimlock expected. Holidays always came earlier, the more years you were alive, and it surprised him every year. His parents had told him so when he was a sparkling, waiting impatiently for his presents, and he'd grown up and now told the little ones the same.

He saw less of Starscream, as the next few weeks of limbo passed. The Seeker was spending his time tight with his trine, walking the gardens, probably sneakily testing his thrusters once or twice. So far, he had obeyed doctor's orders not to fly, and his recovery had been rapid. He walked the medical wing like it was his to live in and give privileges to, but the staff were learning not to fear him. Tragically for Starscream, he didn't  _ really  _ have the power to fire anyone who mildly annoyed him.

House staff decorated, so the halls were lively with New Year's lanterns. Grimlock's balcony was lively too, with lanterns the kids had made him and a string of lights Paddles had put up above his door. His family visited more often, though the older kids were busy with exams, and Ratchet busier than ever at his clinic. Overdoses always went up around the holidays. Grimlock made real efforts to be cheerful for them, and his older set of siblings helped. They made his place a revolving door, in and out of his room after their shifts to tell him about their lives. There had probably been worse house arrests.

Grimlock had thrown out his engex after Starscream's late visit. With nothing to help him recharge, and no news about his fate, he felt a little like he was watching his own life from the outside.

And one day Starscream burst into his room.

"We need your washrack," he announced, striding right past Grimlock. Skywarp and Thundercracker followed close behind, their arms loaded with polish cases and brushes. Thundercracker carried tools Grimlock didn't recognize. "Hope you didn't need it! It has better seating."

"For what?" Grimlock asked, as he stood. He looked to Starscream's trinemates for an answer, and Skywarp waved cheerfully. Going off the look on Starscream's face, smug and relaxed, their night a few weeks ago had never happened. Thundercracker took enough pity to answer him.

"Yearly marks," he said, setting the polish cases down on Grimlock's end table. "And we're all pretty overdue, so this is going to be an all-day session."

Grimlock realized what he meant--the Vosian tattoos, that flowed out from the bases of wings and across their frames. Skywarp and Thundercracker had a few more than Starscream, glyphs that began to follow their wing edges and abdomens, but Starscream's were hardly noticeable at the base. The older Vosians he had met in the city had been considerably more covered.

"Every year you add to your story," Skywarp said. "Or, people used to. It's kind of just a set group of glyphs now you choose from every year."

"If they're relevant," Starscream said. His wings were held high, his optics bright with excitement today instead of...whatever it was they had been, that night. "I am  _ several  _ years behind, and in fact, I'll get myself a little more covered than I would be at this age."

Thundercracker, hands free, pressed a finger to a point about one-third away from Starscream's wing base. "You'd be...here, by now? We missed a couple years, too."

Starscream laughed, and Grimlock enjoyed the sound of it. It wasn't a cruel one, and sounded more like the noise Starscream would naturally make. "Oh, we'll go farther. What will the priests do, wag their finger at me from Vos? I'll be as beautiful as I deserve, and no less."

It was Starscream's usual self, to stroll into Grimlock's apartment and declare how he'd be using another mech's space. Grimlock didn't argue, and maybe he  _ should  _ have...but it had come as a relief, to see the Seeker again. Even with cheerful lights sent by his family, Grimlock's room here was so devoid of life and things to do. Boredom had likely never followed Seeker, not if he could help it.

"You're rusty, Thundercracker," Starscream said loudly. "So we'll do Skywarp first. He won't mind if we mess it up."

"I will mind!" Skywarp said petulantly. He teleported from the main room to the washrack anyway, laughing when he saw Grimlock start, and turned the solvent taps on hot. "As if  _ you're  _ an expert calligrapher, Star."

"He  _ is  _ kind of good," Thundercracker said, as he joined him. "But he'll be as rusty as me. Oh, Grimlock, you got new cleaner."

They were speaking Standard for his benefit, which felt interesting, when what they were all about to do was so Vosian. Why even include him? Grimlock just shrugged.

"Needed something a little nicer for the Palace," he said. He didn't say that Swoop and Slash had brought him a proper kit of products, declaring that there was nowhere to go but up from three-in-one solvent. "It's probably not Seeker-approved, though."

"It's fine for a grounder," Skywarp said, and Grimlock bit his laugh back. "Starscream! Scrub between my wings, I can't reach."

They really were like birds, flitting around each other, chattering in Standard and Vosian both as they washed, and waxed, and polished each other in a washrack they'd taken over. Grimlock almost found excuses to leave, feeling like an intruder on their intimate moments...but it was  _ his  _ room, and regularly they'd send a question his way, or include him in the chatter. Like was next, to have his frame readied for marks.

It was hard to hide his alarm when Skywarp settled himself on the washrack bench, and Thundercracker produced a sharp carving tool from one of the cases.

"Is this...a thing a professional should be doing?" Grimlock asked cautiously. Skywarp just grinned.

"I mean, yeah?" he said. "Kind of. But TC's sort of a professional, and lots of people don't bother with a marks parlor for it."

Thundercracker made a face. "My sire did this work," he said. "He was military, but around this time of year he does a ton of officers and the family. He made me and Wingblade learn."

"Your sire has a face like a pallbearer, all the time," Starscream groused. "I wouldn't have him touch me anyway."

"You're preaching to the choir," Thundercracker replied. His optics narrowed in concentration, settling himself next to Skywarp's relaxed wing. "I need to concentrate. Tell Grimlock about your sire issues, if you must."

Skywarp snorted, and his wings flicked, probably unwise when a sharp carving tool was so near it. Thundercracker's hand steadied it instead, and Grimlock watched the tool make a thin divot in his trinemate's wing. The beginnings of a curling Vosian glyph, round lines and sharp ends, connecting to an existing one already. Skywarp winced once, but he held still, trying to glance every so often at what Thundercracker was doing.

Starscream stepped back out into the main room, and Grimlock felt himself stiffen up as he strolled to the berth's edge and made himself comfortable next to him.

"It's only a surface scratch," he said. "You don't need to look like he's killing him. We'll paint it all over with gold when he's done, and touch up the old ones that have faded."

Grimlock watched Thundercracker end the glyph, and pause to wipe the newly-carved space with a cleaning cloth. Satisfied, he cleaned the tool too, and started in on the next one. He must have been an amateur at the work, but to Grimlock the glyphs were tidy looking. The old Vosian language had a pleasant, round flowing script. This was the sort of thing Paddles would watch a documentary on, and come to Grimlock excitedly about, to chatter away about the things he'd learned. Grimlock would never have been interested in his life in the kind of stuff Paddles watched, but hearing it from him made it interesting.

"This must take a long time for the old mechs," Grimlock observed. Starscream snorted.

"You have no idea," he said. "My sire was  _ ancient,  _ he was covered wings to ankles by the end. He'd make me help him touch up all the old ones, then complain about the poor job I did. Have another sparkling then, I'd say, and he did not like that."

"Were you close to your sire?" Grimlock asked. Starscream hadn't spoken much about his family, and Grimlock had guessed it must be painful for Starscream to discuss them, dead as they were.

Apparently not, as Starscream smirked and shook his helm. "Primus, no. Vosian parents are very hands-off, I was sent to boarding school at first opportunity. My sire's trine were narcissists and my carrier's family were all dead, so I was stuck with him." He made a face. "Well. I have one cousin who went to seminary. Idiot zealot probably knew I was in that hole."

"I'm...sorry to hear your relationship was poor," Grimlock said, awkwardly. Thundercracker was several glyphs in on Skywarp, currently scolding him for moving and making it more difficult to work. Starscream shrugged.

"Oh, don't be," he said. "Appearances were important to Vos, that's why he'd make me do the touch-ups at new year's. I was his heir, it was a business relationship. And he was positively ancient, like I said. He told me himself he didn't mind joining the Allspark by then."

Grimlock's sire was awfully old himself, having settled with the younger Wheeljack well into his life. They had their first sparkling later still, but Ratchet was as vigorous as ever. Even if he held the family record for complaining about the ache in his back. He couldn't imagine his lively, hardworking sire being ready to snuff out, but Vosians  _ were  _ religious and Ratchet certainly wasn't. Still, Starscream had been the mech's heir, and their wealth had been lost to the Vosian elite when they'd taken his son.

"I know  _ your  _ family is ridiculously close," Starscream went on. "There's probably benefits to it. But I benefited from choosing my people, and I will continue to." He gestured, to where Thundercracker was turning Skywarp, to mark a new part of his frame. "They're idiots, sure, but they're  _ my  _ idiots. I decided that myself."

They watched in silence after that, as Thundercracker marked both of Skywarp's wings, front and back. He added glyphs at Skywarp's waist too, which seemed harder for the Seeker to sit still for. For someone who didn't like this work. Thundercracker seemed to have a steady hand, and the concentration to do it neatly. Metal shavings had accumulated at their feet, which was hopefully something they'd have the sense to clean up.

"You're done," Thundercracker announced. "We'll paint at the end. Your turn, Starscream."

Starscream stood, and carefully stretched, lifting his arms to do so. Grimlock realized Skywarp was staring at him, staring at  _ Starscream,  _ and he quickly looked straight ahead.

"Waist glyphs?" Starscream said, as he strode back into the washrack. Skywarp's newest marks were circling around, almost to his front. "How daring."

"Apparently they're the fashion," Thundercracker shrugged. "Not that we're home for anyone to notice. If you can hold still, you'll get some too."

Grimlock didn't hear Starscream's reply, as Skywarp chose then to teleport back out next to him, flopping backwards onto the large berth. Again, he couldn't hide his startle. It seemed when you welcomed Seekers into your life, they took every inch they could.

"How's it look?" Skywarp asked, sitting up so he could twist this way and that, showing Grimlock the marks.

"Tidy," Grimlock offered. "Graceful," he decided on, and Skywarp beamed. He had been angling for praise. "I can't read them, though."

"Oh, I barely understand them," Skywarp said. "Starscream can read them, because he's a nerd. I think mine start really sad this time, but the ones furthest out are celebration glyphs. You see them a lot, when a good thing happens."

"Starscream being freed," Grimlock said, and Skywarp nodded.

"'Course," he said, turning back to where Starscream had regally sat himself on the bench. Thundercracker had already begun his glyphs, further in than he'd had to start on Skywarp. "We weren't happy for like three vorns, which  _ sucked,  _ because no one wants a pair of depressed weirdos around them anyway. Last year TC's parents were on him about mourning glyphs, but he said no, unless we saw a body. Good thing, too, it would have been  _ awkward  _ when Star got back to us."

"I'm glad he did," Grimlock murmured, as he watched Starscream receive his marks. "Family needs each other."

"You'd know, yours is enormous," Skywarp said. He was a talker, when you got him started. "My parents are normal, if you're wondering. They wished we'd stop snooping around for our third, but I think they were just worried." He kicked slightly, at the end table's leg. "Guess they'll have to visit, not the other way around. They're out in Vos."

"I'm sorry," Grimlock said.

"Nothing to be sorry for," Skywarp said, like it didn't bother him. Surely it did, but it was hardly Grimlock's business. "It is what it is. Besides, my trine's here. I can manage whatever, with them."

From how Skywarp and Thundercracker had looked on arrival, they had not managed well as two instead of three. Grimlock couldn't imagine his own parents letting him fall into disrepair the way they had, or fly alone across a whole  _ planet  _ to get to someone that mattered to him. It didn't seem to bother the Seekers much, that their parents were hands-off by comparison.

"Who will do Thundercracker's marks?" Grimlock asked.

"Starscream, of course," Skywarp said. "My hands shake a bit, I'm no good at it. Plus I get bored and rush, and it's pretty hard to fix when you frag it up. I'll help with the painting."

The pieces Starscream was getting carved seemed considerably more intricate than Skywarp's, and Thundercracker moved his tools more slowly. Skywarp nudged Grimlock's knee with his elbow, watching them.

"Starscream's pretty gorgeous, so TC gives him a little extra," Skywarp said. "Well, the one other time he carved him, he did. What do you think of it?"

"Well, there's not a ton yet," Grimlock said, narrowing in his visor to try and get a better look. "But he'll wear them well. He looks pleased."

Starscream  _ was  _ a picture, and Grimlock was trying to watch casually, like it was just a strange Vosian ritual before him. Not a strange Vosian ritual starring a slim, gleaming mech with a sharp compelling face, a smug smile, and the hypnotic bright optics Grimlock now saw as he tried to recharge. His wings were flared neatly behind him, not so much as twitching as Thundercracker worked. One long leg was crossed at the ankle over the other, and Starscream picked up one hand to examine his sharpened fingers--his trademark, when he was trying to look bored. There was zero sign that he was weeks, if not months, from a full recovery. His trine had done an exemplary job keeping Starscream grounded, figuratively and literally, long enough to help his frame heal the way it should be.

He met Grimlock's optics, and Grimlock just as quickly looked away. Skywarp shifted next to him. His elbow nudged Grimlock's knee more firmly.

"Vosians don't have super unique courtship rituals, by the way," Skywarp said, almost offhand. Grimlock's spark jolted, and he hoped his frame didn't too as he turned and stared at the other mech. Skywarp's grin was wide, and he clearly knew what he was doing. "And Starscream likes the chase. He'll be excited if you make the first move."

"The first...move?" Grimlock said faintly. Were Paddles and Skywarp conversing about his nonexisting love life, trying to conjure things that weren't?

There was no way, and that was truly the frightening part.

Skywarp looked at him like he was an idiot. "Obviously," he said, in a lower voice. Starscream was saying something to Thundercracker, not so much as glancing their way. "He likes big, strong mechs, first of all. Lucky for him one rescued him. And he pretends feelings aren't real and he's above them, but he gets into them harder than  _ anyone.  _ He might crack if you leave it long enough, but I'm recommending you don't."

Grimlock looked at the wall, so he wouldn't have to stare at Skywarp. "I have to know. Is it this obvious?" Whatever  _ this  _ was. He knew what this was, and  _ by Primus  _ if this year got any more ridiculous.

Skywarp shrugged. "A little? The tension's there. But he's nuts over you. I'm just helping you along because you might  _ never  _ notice otherwise."

Starscream was looking their way again, when Grimlock dared to turn back. He felt heated, the flustered way he'd used to when Swoop had teased him about a new crush in their youth. He wanted to transform right there and just prowl around in alt-mode, so it would be easier to think and not feel like his brain module was one long, elaborate error.

"It's inappropriate," Grimlock mumbled, after a moment. "I'm too old for him. There's a power imbalance, he's--"

"Oh, he likes all that," Skywarp said. "He'll never say it, so you're going to have to trust me. Thundercracker told me to leave it alone, but he's an emotionally constipated idiot, so."

Thundercracker had looked up at the mention of his name. Apparently not having caught the whole sentence, he just shook his head muttering. Grimlock and Skywarp sat in silence for a good while after that, the Seeker eventually whipping out a datapad and some small game to mess with until Starscream stood up. The Seeker strode out of the washrack to look in the room's mirror, flaring out his wings.

"I suppose this is adequate," he said, in a tone that clearly said he was pleased. "It's your turn to sit and do nothing, Thundercracker. Skywarp, come here."

"Why?" Skywarp said, already setting the datapad aside. "I suck at this."

"Just hold him still," Starscream huffed. "You may recall Thundercracker complaining about my  _ gentle touch." _

Thundercracker made a face, and Grimlock couldn't help but feel a little pity for him. Nothing about Starscream was gentle, good qualities or bad. The poor mech had worked hard, too, but he still sat himself on the bench to await his fate. Skywarp jumped up, leaving his datapad, and Grimlock shifted to maximize his space again.

How strange, that he knew he'd miss them all terribly once they all filed out again. He was destined to have birds flitting around his room chattering, as long as he was tied to the Primal palace and Starscream.

Whatever that meant for them. Alarmingly, everyone but Grimlock himself seemed to be making an agreement.

Eventually he got up to check the console for updates on Vos (the same), his fate (nothing), and the wrestling federation (ridiculous, and no fun to watch without his siblings). He made sweetened energon, and when he checked back in on the Seekers they had switched to painting, tiny brushes detailing Skywarp's marks. Apparently they had been quick about it, because he was almost done. It really  _ was  _ striking when painting, especially against the black of Skywarp's paint.

"Grim," Skywarp said, as he jumped up and flicked his new, beautified wings. "C'mere. You ought to try painting."

Grimlock was struck still, and he watched Starscream and Thundercracker stiffen too. "Me?"

"A grounder?" Thundercracker said in surprise. "No offense."

Starscream folded his arms over his cockpit, but he watched Grimlock with interest. Apparently being a grounder mattered less now, to him. "Are your hands steady?"

"I'm no painter," Grimlock said, more nervously than he would admit. Skywarp beamed, and had already bounced up to grab Grimlock's wrist and tug him back towards the washrack. He nearly spilled the freshly-made energon, and Grimlock suppressed a sigh.

"Star, not to be  _ that mech,  _ but you kinda owe him one?" Skywarp wheedled. "He's a part of your story, or whatever. Grim, dip that little brush, drip the excess off on the can's side, then just fill the glyph. Super easy."

"We'll run out of correction solvent," Starscream mumbled, but Grimlock noticed how he shifted as he sat back down, so his wing would be easier to access. He glanced at Thundercracker, who just shrugged, nodding towards the brushes.

Grimlock himself did not fuss terribly with appearance. He'd let his more particular siblings give him a once-over for special occasions, but for the most part being clean and relatively polished was good enough for him. Something like this, so specific and Vosian, was out of the question. He dipped the small brush, let the excess drip off gently, then let it hover before Starscream's neat, flowing glyphs.

Thundercracker's finger pointed at one, close to the earliest glyphs. "This one. If you make a mistake it won't be noticed, with other marks around it."

"Which one is that?" Starscream asked. He was craning his neck, trying to see without moving too much.

Thundercracker smiled. "I believe that's 'survivor.' You were very particular about what you were getting."

"It's more prose than  _ survivor, _ " Starscream huffed, though he looked pleased. "The translation is something like  _ 'one who will fly forever.'  _ Don't screw it up, Grimlock, you're about to receive an honour."

Grimlock might have flicked the brush over his wing instead, knowing a speckling of gold paint would make Starscream squawk in disdain and Skywarp laugh loudly. But it didn't take a genius to see Skywarp had engineered this for his benefit, the brat, and he was expected to perform this intimate act properly. Grimlock held the brush as steadily as he could, and pressed the bristles softly in the groove on Starscream's wing. The gold was somehow more striking on his white wing, and he was grateful when the line he painted relatively matched the glyph's soft curve. He dipped the brush again, and repeated the process. And again, and a few more times, before Thundercracker stepped in to observe his work.

"You're probably the first grounder that's ever painted one of these," he observed. "A nice 'frag you' to the priests, honestly. I'll have to clean up the edges...but you did pretty damn good."

Grimlock's spark warmed with a rush of pleasure, in spite of himself. He felt ridiculous, holding the brush back out for Thundercracker to take and stepping back. "I'll leave the rest to the professionals," he said.

"I'd  _ like  _ to get us all looked at by a Vosian pro someday," Thundercracker sighed, continuing with his work. "I guess we'll have to be the professionals now, though. We're never going back."

Skywarp shrugged. "Better we're here together," he said, with just a note of false cheerfulness. "Vos is gonna leave a bad taste in your mouth anyway, TC."

"I won't miss it," Starscream said, though Grimlock was sure that was a lie. "We are as far from Vos as can be, and I'm well pleased with that. It's just a shame I'm not close enough to carpet bomb them myself."

"When Grimlock goes back to the military he can paint your name on a bomb," Thundercracker said dryly.

_ Or when I'm in prison I'll think of you, flying with gold on your wings.  _ Grimlock stayed where he was as Thundercracker finished his work, and left Starscream breathtaking with his new accents. When the Seeker stood, meeting Grimlock's optics, he smiled, his mouth a thin blade on his face. Then he looked demurely to the floor and walked away, in what must have been  _ very  _ deliberate behaviour.

Grimlock realized a moment later that his cold shower would have to wait until they were done with this work and gone, and it felt like an eternity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I-it's not like I like you or anything, letting you paint my deeply traditional and meaningful wing marks!!!!!!


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He focused on Grimlock wandering unhappily through life instead. How his optics rested almost warily on Starscream, and would quickly flit away. How he'd lock his door and not answer. And how his family whispered worriedly, after their visits.

Starscream watched Grimlock disassociate all through the festivities.

Most of the staff had been released for the holiday, and those who would stay on to serve the Prime and Protector had apparently brought their families to stay in hab suites on-site. They received double pay for the trouble, and Starscream could just imagine his shanix-pinching sire sniffing at the wastefulness of Primes. Their staff would have worked to their regular day off, new year's or not, and would have been grateful for the salary. Starscream would hardly have thought about it.

He refused to be caught being  _ friendly  _ with the help, but they were making it difficult. One of the cleaners had left him a container of Kalisian polish as a new year's gift, and others had handed candy out to him and the trine, all smiles. Not to be in debt, Starscream had made Thundercracker order equivalent gifts with their new stipend, to give out to anyone he so much as passingly recognized. The new lease on life had apparently put him in a  _ giving  _ mood.

Mainly, it would look bad on him if he wasn't generous, and word would soon get out about it. Starscream would be the subject of gossip that  _ he  _ chose, and no one else.

"The Prime and Protector always hold a small get-together of the households," Pharma told him. "I'm invited this year, since I've been working with you, though it's no gala. They do the whole ceremony and speech on New Year's Day to placate the senators, but it's not their preference."

Starscream was getting deeply sick of being poked and prodded to check his readings. Ratchet said that meant he was truly improving, but to his frustration, it seemed he wouldn't be flying till the new year after all. Trying to prove all was well on Grimlock's balcony had ended in near-disaster and no small bout of nausea, and he had promised his anxious trine he would wait for Pharma's okay. Today he allowed Pharma to plug into his medical port and take his readings without fuss.

"I suppose I'm invited, then?" he said. "Living on site and all."

"Of course," Pharma said. "It's rarer than you might have guessed to get security clearance here. It will mainly be the families, their friends. Sparklings underfoot."

Starscream sighed. "I hear them screaming in the halls, and in the garden."

Pharma smiled. "They've been told to let you rest."

"More like to avoid the badly behaved Seeker," Starscream said, with a smirk. "Of course I'll attend, it will look good on me to prove how vigorous my health is."

"And everything you do is about looking good," Pharma said dryly.

Of course it was! Appearances were everything for someone of Starscream's station--and Pharma had to understand that they mattered even more so now. Starscream was a mech with a lot to prove, not only a tragic figure at the centre of Vos's great scandal. Looks of pity were not tolerated, and he was so determined to get his life off the ground again that he had already signed up for classes the coming semester. He would attend remotely, on doctor's orders, but he would never be outclassed in intelligence.

Keeping busy would be good for him. Primus help him if he admitted it, but the shuddering ache in his spark every time he remembered being dirty and alone, almost unable to remember what the sky looked like...

...No, he would leave this vulnerability behind as soon as possible. And get  _ himself  _ off the ground soon too, no matter how his traitorous frame insisted it was out of the question. It didn't matter how many times he was told that yes, his long-dormant thrusters and flight engine were simply knitting themselves back to strength after years of no use. Being denied the air left him sick at spark. If he thought about it too hard he got angry, and lashed out at Thundercracker and Skywarp. They were patient and gentle about it, worst of all.

So he focused on Grimlock wandering unhappily through life instead. How his optics rested almost warily on Starscream, and would quickly flit away. How he'd lock his door and not answer. And how his family whispered worriedly, after their visits.

Even he had to admit that for a small gathering, the palace did not skimp. A gleaming ballroom had been bedecked with lanterns of all colours, hung tastefully next to the colourful murals wherever their colours would best be set off. The doors were open to one of the smaller gardens, with that same spectacular view of Iacon not far off. A huge table was laid with treats of various expense (apparently even the Prime liked convenience store rust sticks). Starscream, polished to perfection, didn't feel out of place in this room. He had ensured that his trine would look just as good at his sides, their marks gone over once more with an extra touch-up of paint.

Best of all, every mech in attendance turned to look at him as they crossed the threshold. As well they should.

Starscream swept the room with his optics, to get a feel of the guests. Yes, mostly palace residents. A number of  _ very  _ diverse mechs hanging around Jazz. A blue wheeled mech he knew was Skids, red and yellow speedsters, and a big flier scribbling on a datapad. A red and white minibot was talking animatedly, his hands linked through the first consort's. Starscream had finally seen all of the harem, then. Maybe they were usually cloistered? Unlikely, since Optimus Prime seemed to have some kind of conscience.

There were sparklings  _ all over,  _ stuffing their faces, running through the garden, showing off newly-unwrapped gifts. Well, easy enough to sidestep. Prowl glared him down when he so much as glanced at a smiling Ironhide, who had a sparkling leaning against his knee and a hand on his middle. Ridiculous. Megatron, holding a comically tiny newspark and giving Starscream a regretful look, the ideal reaction. A lot of staff were filling plates, who either had the night off or could mingle between parties. He'd had a lot of time to listen when being forced to "rest up," and what he had learned was it was considerably easier to work for the Prime than for other nobility. Apparently the Lord High Protector didn't even  _ use  _ his servants most of the time, preferring to clean up after himself. They'd never catch  _ Starscream  _ stooping to that.

"Star," Skywarp whispered. "We're gonna get food. You hungry?"

Starscream shrugged, pretending he wouldn't feel a little empty when Thundercracker and Skywarp stepped away. "Stuff your faces. I energized before."

Thundercracker shot him a worried look over his shoulder (Skywarp was already bounding towards the treats), but he'd have to be careful with the candy. If he asked, surely, they'd wrap some up and send it to his room. He'd have to be  _ nice  _ about it, because the servants pretended not to hear if you didn't say please, but it was easy enough.

"Well, Starscream," rumbled Optimus Prime's voice to his left. He turned, and found the Prime looking no different than usual. Maybe more polished, but not dressed in the sort of regalia a holiday would require. "It pleases me to see you looking so well. Your new markings are striking."

Starscream preened politely, but he was pleased. "It's been some time since I added to them. Happy new year, sir."

He noticed then the little yellow sparkling clinging to Prime's leg, gazing up at Starscream with wide, curious optics. He'd seen that one in the garden, as boisterous as any of the others, but he could tell now that they were very young. Starscream had been fortunate to meet few toddlers in his life.

"To you as well." Optimus followed his gaze, and his optics softened instantly looking at the sparkling. "Bumblebee. What do you say?"

Bumblebee would have been considered  _ achingly  _ cute, to mechs with less sense than Starscream. He tucked himself a little closer to his sire, but kept his blue optics trained on this mysterious new mech.

"Happy new year," he said shyly, and hid his face. Optimus chuckled, and Starscream knew there'd only be trouble complaining about all the sparklings underfoot to  _ him.  _ Optimus Prime's main pastime was knocking up consorts, apparently rivalled only by Megatron. Definitely something in the energon here.

"To you as well," Starscream said finally. He managed not to sound condescending (there wasn't really sport in picking on a  _ toddler _ ), and Optimus had twinkling optics, so he had succeeded. He went on quickly, to get his pleasantries out of the way. Making Optimus Prime happy would make for a better experience at this whole endeavour. "Now that I am  _ nearly  _ recovered, I should offer my thanks. The lodgings have been most appreciated."

"Of course," Optimus said. "You were deserving of a safe place to recuperate. I'm told your university entrance scores were ranked in the top percentile, Starscream. It will be a pleasure to see where your education takes you."

He sounded...fatherly, which made Starscream recoil a little. He kept the smile on his face anyway, his wings neatly in place. Not that the Prime would know how to read them. "I assure you it will be impressive. If you can excuse me, though, I must check on my trine."

"Of course." Truth be told, Starscream just didn't want to make further small talk about scrabbling to rebuild his life, or think about why he had to. It hadn't occurred to him till now that most of tonight would be spent being  _ pitied,  _ because he had been so pleased to dress up and be admired again. More frustrating still, Grimlock either wasn't here or was tucked in some garden corner, and if  _ anyone  _ needed pity, it was him. A shame he wouldn't get it from his future jailers.

Leaving Optimus, it felt now like there were nothing but prying, pitying optics raking his frame. The poor flightless Vosian, doing his best to look whole in the face of trauma no reasonable mech could expect to get over. An interesting piece of gossip, allowed into the inner Primal circle so long as he was an object of pity.

"You want some food?"

Starscream looked down. Hot Rod, the prince they thought would be heir. He was a flashy little mech, all fiery colours and a wide smile. He was fearless in the face of Starscream's most withering gaze, and the little mech held out a tray. It was piled with energon treats, the multicoloured kind filled with rich liquid flavour.

Starscream raised an optic ridge. "You seem a little high-rank to be serving."

The little mech's optics flickered, all mischief. "Oh, I'm just being nice. You were staring off into space, and I nicked all the good stuff, but I figured you're a guest and I should share a  _ little. _ "

A quick glance at the tables laden with goodies revealed that, yes, a particular section of treats was looking a little sparse. Starscream felt his spark warm to Hot Rod's rule breaking, a crack in the disdain, and it took effort to clamp it closed. He waved one hand.

"Enjoy your bounty," he said, trying to sound dismissive. "I'm not hungry."

"I guess not," said the brat, tilting his head to one side. "You don't have to do anything, just lie around."

"You--" Starscream started, knowing his optics were flashing. Hot Rod took a little step back, but that grin hadn't wavered. Little monster didn't know who he was speaking to.

"I," Starscream said, huffing out the word. "Have  _ been through it,  _ as they say, and my  _ lying around  _ is well deserved. Shoo."

"Sideswipe will notice you stealing soon," called a deep, familiar voice. Later Starscream would have to properly take stock of how relieved he felt hearing Grimlock from one of the doorways. The big mech cleaned up for the party, and the city's bright lights gleamed off his plating. He cut quite a figure in the doorway, though no one had turned to look.

It took effort not to hitch his wings up.

Hot Rod looked undeterred, though he lowered his snack tray. "Carrier's a brat too," he said, and Grimlock chuckled.

"Maybe, but he'll tell your sire," Grimlock said. "Better hide your bounty."

Apparently Hot Rod found that to be wise advice, disappearing among a cluster of staff about to refill some dispensers. Starscream made a show of rolling his optics and twitching his wings as he joined Grimlock outside, the cool night air brushing his plating pleasantly. If he offlined his optics and stood very still awhile, he might feel like he was taking the air. A cursory check over his shoulder found his trinemates with plates in their laps, chatting with Jazz by another door. The mech now held a chubby newspark on one hip...and in the hand furthest from the trine was flicking a vibroblade with casual flair. Well, that was certainly something.

"I truly don't see the appeal of sparklings," Starscream sighed. "Spoiled, needy little things."

Grimlock retracted his mask, and he had a mischievous smile of his own on his face. "It would take one to know one."

Starscream paused, tilting his helm as he rested one hand on his hip. Grimlock's optics were sparkling as he watched him, a corner of his mouth twitched up in a smile. The tips of Starscream's wings flicked of their own accord, traitorous things.

"Is that any way to speak to your recovering, innocent charge?" Starscream said. When Starscream had played with giving off his signals--and progressed to full, ridiculous flirting at Skywarp's urge--Grimlock had been bowled over, hesitant. His touch against Starscream's wings as he painted had nearly burned his plating, electric whenever his hand had brushed Starscream's delicate wingtip. Suddenly he was casual, teasing, confident. Had he been drinking again?

Maybe a little, but his optics were alert, his gaze steady. Starscream wasn't sure Grimlock  _ did  _ drunk, and that was something he liked too.

"I'd say I'm more compelling than a sparkling," he said, tossing his head. "I guess they can hope to turn out like me."

Grimlock shrugged. His posture took on a more awkward shift, and without thinking Starscream began to walk, gesturing with his helm for Grimlock to follow.

"You are that," the big mech agreed. Starscream had to swallow down the rush of pleasure at the words. He hadn't carried himself so well all this time just for one slip of the tongue to get him interested. "You like the party?"

Starscream dared to let his wings dip a fraction, wondering if Grimlock would notice. His optic's narrowed once, and he nodded slowly, so Starscream flicked them back up in approval. They were in a more enclosed corner of this garden now, where old-growth crystals caught the city light and the more spindling ones grew to crown above the pathways. Many were red, a colour Starscream had always been biased towards. Red for passion, for brightness, warmth. Grimlock's visor caught one as they paused, glinting in the light.

"I  _ feel  _ like an object of pity," Starscream snarled, and was surprised at himself. This was the sort of thing he typically reserved for Thundercracker and Skywarp, but he realized he had long already been letting Grimlock into his intimate moments. A pleasant game to play at first, really, and Starscream had gotten dangerous with it.

"I can't know exactly what you're feeling," Grimlock said, carefully. Starscream rolled his optics, but his companion only shook his head. "No one alive can. But people look at me right now like I'm on borrowed time. If they don't, they're worried sick, and I can't stand to be the cause. No one  _ wants  _ to send me to prison, but for the good of Cybertron--"

He waved one hand. It caught on a rather delicate crystal, and Starscream watched a branch  _ crack  _ and snap.

And now  _ he  _ felt pity, watching Grimlock's shoulders drop in defeat at the damage. The smile from before had disappeared.

"They're fools," Starscream said. "If they don't think I'll shame them to the pit and back, on  _ every  _ holoscreen--"

"I know you would." The corner of Grimlock's mouth turned up again. "I know you'd do it to spite Vos, but it would be brave. I'd appreciate it."

It took a moment for Starscream to formulate his response. He pictured Thundercracker's admonishing face, warning him that insults drove off "the good ones," as if anyone he'd 'faced back in Vos had been worth it anyway.

"Maybe it would be for more than spite," Starscream said. "Justice, too. I still...owe you."

Grimlock raised an optic ridge. "Do you? I told you, I didn't bring you out expecting a reward."

It was dangerous, to keep giving Grimlock such ammunition! He had seen enough of Starscream's self, every flaw (real and amplified), every weakness, in so little time. This grounded beast, dangerous and huge, ridiculously soft. Starscream felt ready to tumble over an edge, to activate his thrusters only at the last second before impact.

"Whatever you do," Grimlock said, after a moment. "I don't want you to feel like you  _ owe  _ me. Anything you might do for me, I want it to be from the spark."

Starscream bent, picking up the piece of crystal in his hands and turning it over. The light splayed out across his fingers, across Grimlock's chest. The other mech was so much taller that Starscream had to tip his chin up to look at him.

"The things you do for me, then," Starscream said, more softly. "They're from the spark."

"Yes," Grimlock said, without hesitation. Then he paused, and sighed, pinching the bridge of his olfactory as his visor dimmed. "I'm sorry. It's not--I shouldn't be  _ flirting  _ with you."

Starscream's wingtips ticked higher in alarm. "And why not?" he said, trying not to be too loud. The last thing he needed was the whole Primal family knowing more of his personal business. "You  _ painted  _ my new year's marks. Do you know how intimate what I let you do is?"

Grimlock's cheeks flushed dark, visible even beneath the plating. "I know, I know. I'm not--I'm not good at this sort of thing. I'm sorry."

"You talked so smooth a minute ago," Starscream said, and he could hear the smile in his own voice. "My trine tells me--inaccurately, of course--that I'm no good at it either."

What those fools Skywarp and Thundercracker  _ had  _ done was fail utterly to shut up about Starscream's own business, and Starscream had been forced to handle it. That was all this was, of course. And who was to stay Starscream couldn't still take what he deserved?

"Skywarp told me you'd like if I made the first move," Grimlock said, a little more faintly. Starscream rolled his optics, but the corners of his mouth were traitors too, turning up despite his best efforts. The bigger mech had stepped closer, and Starscream's engines gave a flutter at being in his looming shadow.

"Surprise me," were the words that left Starscream's mouth. He wasn't sure when he had sent the command to his vocalizer to speak, and the surprise of it meant he was caught off guard when Grimlock's large, heavy hands rested on his hips and he leaned down close to Starscream.

The kiss Grimlock pressed to his lips was  _ soft,  _ nothing awkward or brutish about it. His lips tasted sweet, the triple-filtered energon of candies. His vents were warm against Starscream, and so was his plating, as Starscream's hands looked for purchase and found his broad chest.

Well, if they had already made it  _ this  _ far, then Starscream would meet him with enthusiasm. He pressed into the kiss, cockpit bumping against Grimlock's chest as his spark pounded.

Starscream had kissed a few mechs in his time--all of them Seekers, and a couple of them his trinemates--but they had never been these tender things. Awkward, maybe, or a passionate prelude. Not an act in itself. Grimlock's thumbs brushed his sensitive abdominal plating, and Starscream shuddered. Tender, yes, but the heat coming off Grimlock was now palpable. Starscream revelled in it, satisfied that just a kiss could do this to such a massive mech.

As they broke apart, Grimlock brushed his lips against the corner of Starscream's mouth. "Any mech would be a fool to pity you," he murmured, his voice a rumble that shocked through Starscream to the ground. "You're beautiful and brave. Your time to change the world was slightly delayed, nothing more."

"Oh, flattery," Starscream huffed, even as his helm rested against Grimlock's chest. "That  _ will  _ get you somewhere, won't it."

"I know," Grimlock said, chuckling. Starscream drank in the rumble of his engines, how it shook his own powerful flight frame. One of his huge hands came up to stroke Starscream's cheek. "I've had a lot of downtime to learn how to read you."

"Who  _ doesn't  _ like to be told they're pretty?" Starscream scoffed, as Grimlock chuckled again. "Humble fools, that's who."

Grimlock bent to kiss him again, and in Vos Starscream would have rolled his optics at the  _ romance  _ of this nonsense. Framed by crystal gardens, hidden from view by them as a party went on just beyond them. Lips pressed to Grimlock's, hands on his chest, Starscream knew what  _ forgetting the world  _ meant. One could be alone and enclosed in all the right ways.

He broke the kiss with a soft bite, to Grimlock's bottom lip. Hopefully the party hadn't heard the deep rev of his engines that it brought out, and Starscream smirked.

"Now," he said. "What else will you do about this?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> >:) you'll notice the rating has changed this week, to get ready for our next chapter
> 
> Glad you could all be here for these crazy kids getting together! Seems like a good time to take a couple weeks off and add to the buffer, let you all stew. See you March 9th! Mind the warnings and new tags when you get there


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Where are you taking me on this romantic date, then?" Starscream pressed, heat rising on the back of his neck.
> 
> Grimlock got to the point. "My quarters, if you want it."
> 
> The heat on Starscream's neck promptly blazed in his spark and tanks. "Well, you don't waste time."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> >:) ratings and tags have been updated appropriately

As it turned out, Grimlock's answer was take Starscream's hand in his huge one, to lead him through to the other end of the garden and out a side door. Most of the palace was either home with their loved ones or partying themselves, so it was likely only the security mechs were about. The halls were all lit merrily with lanterns, some of the rougher ones clearly made by sparklings.

"Where are you taking me on this romantic date, then?" Starscream pressed, heat rising on the back of his neck.

Grimlock got to the point. "My quarters, if you want it."

The heat on Starscream's neck promptly blazed in his spark and tanks. "Well,  _ you  _ don't waste time."

Grimlock smiled at him over his shoulder. Yes, there was still a bit of shyness there. And those sharp teeth, that pooled the heat to burning in his middle. "Bet you don't either."

It was  _ good,  _ to see him smile. Especially good to realize that it was him who caused it, that no one else right now could brighten this mech like Starscream just had. When they got to Grimlock's room, and the door clicked locked behind them, Grimlock ran one hand up Starscream's frame. He could circle Starscream's forearm if he liked with one hand, without even touching his plating with his own. The only mechs of a size like that back home were shuttles, supposedly beneath his station. Maybe that was part of the thrill, one more  _ frag you  _ to Vos in his choice of partners, but it couldn't be all. The warmth was too clear.

"Anything you really like?" Grimlock murmured, as he bore down on Starscream again.

Ha! Of course he was a gentlemech. Go figure it was something Starscream liked. He let himself be set on the berth's edge, and watched Grimlock pulling another pillow onto the berth out of the corner of his optic.

"Scratches," he said, and Grimlock huffed out a laugh. "Cosmetic  _ only.  _ Knowing I'm the most beautiful mech you've ever fragged."

Another laugh, and Starscream frowned. "I'm not kidding," he added. "No one in Iacon could compete with me."

"No, and I'm not here to compare you to Towers beauties," Grimlock said against his helm. "You like my teeth, Starscream. Do you want them on your plating? Your neck cables?"

Starscream shuddered out a sigh so easily he was mortified at himself. But he was already seated on the edge of Grimlock's berth, the huge mech's vents huffing hot bursts onto his plating, so he supposed he could only be so embarrassed. It had certainly been  _ awhile  _ since he had interfaced. He could feel Grimlock smiling against his helm, the big lug. His reaction had clearly meant  _ yes. _

Instead of having to embarrass himself speaking again, Starscream turned Grimlock's helm to press his lips on his. Grimlock kissed deep, laying Starscream back firmly as he did so and resting a huge hand gently on his shoulder. Starscream was mindful of his wings, guessing that a ground-bound partner might not remember to be. It was some time before Grimlock pulled back, his hands moving across Starscream's wings, his shoulders, his vents, and he bit his bottom lip as he pulled back. There was a dangerous gentleness to the move, and Starscream felt charge racket through his systems, pooling in his lower belly again. His hips bucked, without his really thinking about it.

"I like your enthusiasm," Grimlock murmured into his neck. Starscream huffed out his laugh.

"You're insufferable," he said, even as Grimlock's mouth was on him again, nibbling his neck cable. One hand found, a little clumsily, the tip of Starscream's wing, and he twitched.

"Gently," he admonished, and Grimlock pulled back right away. When the hand returned, it was stroking pleasantly along his aileron's edge, and Starscream sighed his pleasure. His panel was beginning to ache, would probably be burning if it were touched, but he of all mechs deserved a drawn-out night. "They're sensitive."

"I've heard," Grimlock murmured. There was such a smile in his voice that it almost felt silly. Not enough to make him _stop,_ oh no, but interface had always been rough and passionate for Starscream. He made his wants known, clear and firm what he wanted and deserved. Grimlock had a gentler touch--a necessity of his size, perhaps?

Primus below, Starscream could learn to appreciate it.

Grimlock's hands wandered, and so did his mouth. Starscream arched his back at the warmth of Grimlock's lips and tongue against his cockpit, now white-hot, and Grimlock ran his hands along Starscream's slim middle.

"Perfect," the big mech murmured. When he bit, gently, at the metal of Starscream's cockpit, his modesty panel shot aside without prompting from its owner. Grimlock paused, and if he hadn't been occupied Starscream might have smacked the smile off his face.

Grimlock trailed further, lifting himself slightly to get a look at Starscream's spike. Not his preferred equipment, but of course it was attractive like the rest of him, white with red biolights pulsing bright along the sides. Starscream craned his neck, trying to get a look at what  _ Grimlock  _ would have for him, but it seemed his panel was still closed. He forgot this immediately when Grimlock's thumb brushed across his spike's tip, along the side of his biolights. Starscream's hips were moving independently of his thoughts, rocking desperately into the touch.

He heard Grimlock shift down, kneeling against the edge of the berth. His cool vents on Starscream's array made him shiver, and his huge hands ran across Starscream's hips and thighs.

"Neat and pretty," Grimlock murmured, voice now a little more rough. "Might not be for long, though."

When one huge finger traced his outer folds, a moan escaped him, his fingers gripping the berth cover. There would be dents in this fine piece of furniture before the night was out, too.

"Hurry it up and prove it," Starscream ground out, thrusting his hips forward. His spark was spinning and he felt like steam could be curling off his plating, for how hot he was running.

Grimlock grinned toothily at him. An almost ridiculous sight as he bent and was partially obscured by Starscream's spike, but he didn't give him time to roll his optics. In a moment a hot, wet tongue had licked a stripe over his valve. Starscream arched and cried out in surprise, completely lost.

After that Grimlock was relentless. He kissed and licked, starting inward and bringing his tongue across every fold. Starscream's inner channel was soaked with lubricant, dripping to the berth, and Grimlock licked at that too, his frame big enough that his tongue could be a presence  _ inside  _ him. He was deliberate in his direction--inside him, across his folds,  _ teasing  _ his swollen anterior node. When Starscream was about to snap at him to  _ stop playing and get on with it already,  _ Grimlock closed his lips around his node and sucked.

Starscream's back arched in overload before he could even process it, his wings shuddering as the waves of charged crashed across his systems. It occurred to him vaguely that this was his  _ first  _ overload since before he was kidnapped, so it was a small wonder he had lasted barely minutes. It was another moment or two before he could online his optics and look half-lidded at Grimlock. He pushed HUD notices away blearily from his vision.

Wiping his mouth, grinning that sharp-toothed grin. Infuriatingly, and pooling heat in Starscream's tanks immediately.

"I hope you're not a one-overload mech," he said. "I'm not even through with my mouth on you."

Starscream felt his faceplate flush. He was already covered in his own transfluid, his valve soaked, trembling in Grimlock's massive berth. His chronometer told him that the year would roll over soon, and he pushed the thought from his mind. Instead, he pushed his hips forward, pleased with how Grimlock's optics flared.

"I'd be out that door if that was all you had," he said.

And Grimlock bent again, to continue his work. He was languid this time, licking and sucking valve folds everywhere he could reach, but most often against Starscream's node. His huge hands rubbed up and down Starscream's thighs, holding him open, occasionally dipping lower to brush against his valve. Bravo to Starscream, for catching a mech who knew his way around an array. Occasionally he felt the barest brush of Grimlock's fangs against his plating, and he'd groan, denting the berth as he gripped it. When he overloaded next, it was a cresting wave, and he was ready to ride it out and push his valve against that sinful mouth.

Starscream, venting hard, was irritated to find he was tired already. Pharma thought he would be released to his trine's care within weeks, if not days (frankly he thought they were being overprotective), but being a captive had apparently sapped his stamina. It didn't stop him from lifting his hips again, enjoying how Grimlock's visor brightened.

"You really can just keep going," Grimlock said. He sounded a little marveling, running his hand across Starscream's wet thigh.

"You should see Skywarp," Starscream huffed. "At a certain point he can just get them to happen nonstop--"

"I don't want to talk about  _ Skywarp  _ when I have you in front of me," Grimlock said, running his free hand across Starscream's wing glyphs. That did make him smile, the focus. That he had Grimlock's undivided attention, could hold him so firmly.

"Now," Starscream said, reaching up to grab the top of Grimlock's chestplate. There was no way he could tug him down, but Grimlock leaned forward gamely anyway, so close their faceplates almost touched. "You have a spike to put in me."

"Ah," Grimlock said. His visor flickered, but he was grinning. "I'm sorry, Starscream, you need a little training up for--"

"You'll deny me?!" Starscream snapped, his voice rising in pitch. His lover's grin only widened, to his fury. "And here I thought I was revving you up."

"Oh, you are." The growl Grimlock's voice lowered to shot a shudder through him. When the big mech leaned down to kiss at his neck cables, he couldn't keep in his moan. "I could lick your valve all night, you know. Wouldn't even have to touch myself to get off."

"W-well," Starscream started. Grimlock's chuckle made his engine rumble, against Starscream's warm cockpit. "It doesn't change that you're holding back!"

Something thick and hot rubbed against Starscream's thigh. He leaned past Grimlock, to get a better look, and knew his optics went round when he saw the spike in question. Grimlock pushed Starscream back down firmly, and kissed him again. Starscream felt charge building up in his array  _ again,  _ at the power and control of him. At that thick, gorgeous spike,  _ gold  _ like Grimlock's chestplate and pulsing with red biolights.

"It's proportionate," Starscream managed, when Grimlock pulled away from him. His reputation would be in danger, if how his voice shook  _ ever  _ left his room. Those who might ever hear about it from him were sending comms, but Starscream shoved the messages aside.

"You'll get my fingers, if you like," Grimlock said. He brushed Starscream's valve with one hand, playing with its folds. "And," he added, as Starscream felt that spike move against him, "I'll rub  _ this  _ against yours, and you'll never think I'd do such a thing as deny you again. Yes?"

"You're insufferable," Starscream said, even as he leaned forward and took Grimlock for another deep kiss. Grimlock's hips moved slowly, grinding gently against his frame, and after a moment he felt a thick finger push easily inside his valve. It found that inner ceiling node easily, and as he cried out into Grimlock's mouth he was forced to admit that  _ perhaps  _ some working up was in order. Grimlock's one finger could pass for a slender spike, and it wasn't long before Starscream was clumsily fragging himself on it alone.

With a little more resistance from the valve rim, Grimlock pushed in a second finger. Starscream groaned into the big mech's mouth at the stretch, and his overload careened closer as Grimlock bit gently at his lower lip. He could  _ feel  _ the sharpness of those fangs, and the huge mech's perfect control. This massive soldier, holding him down and fragging him open with just the right amount of force. He had  _ needed  _ this.

He guessed Grimlock had too, because at some point he had started rutting against Starscream's thigh and the side of his spike. Clumsily, Starscream tried to match his rhythm. Grimlock's vents burned hot against Starscream's own plating, crackling with charge, and with his hand he tried to reach down and rub their spikes together.

Too big, he realized with an exhilarating rush. He couldn't quite get his hands around both spikes.

Grimlock  _ growled,  _ engine rumbling deep against Starscream, and he nearly overloaded again. Instead he watched as Grimlock noticed his action, and rutted a little more firmly against Starscream's slim hand. Even with hot charge dancing along his lines, growing in his middle and his spark, he smiled. Grimlock's visor flickered, forehead pressed against Starscream's.

"Close," he grunted. Starscream could tell--he'd lost his way with words.

They weren't quite in sync, Grimlock's engine revving hard as he stiffened and spilled transfluid first, across Starscream's middle. He never once let up his rhythm in his valve, hitting his ceiling node with those two fingers unrelentingly until Starscream arched his back and cried out, loudly, his charge spiraling outward and his processing power simply snapping  _ off  _ for a moment.

It only took a klik or two to come back to himself. He felt the berth creak as Grimlock flopped next to him, one hand resting on Starscream's sticky cockpit. Starscream wrinkled his olfactory sensor, though his whole frame was still warm and buzzing with released charge.

"Very acceptable, I'll say," he said, as Grimlock chuckled and Starscream moved to tuck his head under the huge mech's chin. "And that's with you denying me a spiking."

"That's me not setting your recovery back a month," Grimlock said. Starscream could hear the grin in his voice. "When you're cleared to fly, I'll show you rough."

Starscream smirked. "Yes. You'll have your chances to." He wriggled then, a little uncomfortably, because as nice as it  _ was  _ to be painted with transfluid in the moment, it always got sticky and uncomfortable when they were through. "You'll have your chance to clean off what you've done to me too, in just a moment."

Grimlock's finger traced across Starscream's middle, towards his glyphs. "It does suit you, but I guess I must obey. Our first new year activity will be the washracks."

Starscream pulled up his chronometer in surprise. He had rang in the new year by...fragging through it, abandoning a party and his trine for the quiet of a berthroom and the warm embrace of a  _ grounder.  _ His sire, the Pit take him, would be rolling in his tomb.

Especially since Starscream would not have changed it for a moment.

* * *

Grimlock didn't have any strange dreams, or any feelings of hard-to-place dread as he came slowly out of recharge. Overloading good and hard, and pleasing someone else, were the best solution to a bad recharge, so there was one more pro to the situation.

The warm Seeker nestled against him helped matters quite a bit.

Even the thruster kicked uncomfortably into his thigh made his frame warm, with the lazy affection that came from waking next to someone else. Starscream recharged with his head tucked under Grimlock's chin, one arm slung as far over Grimlock's frame as he could get it. His wings lay relaxed, partially over the berth's edge, and Grimlock felt the soft warmth of his vents against him.

"Happy new year," he murmured into Starscream's helm. The Seeker made a muffled noise, and shifted against Grimlock's arms. According to Skywarp, Starscream's nightmares could be nasty (Grimlock could hardly blame him), but it seemed he'd recharged peacefully too. Fragging the nightmares out of a partner seemed a reasonable enough skill to be a proud of.

"Mmph," Starscream said. His optics onlined to slits, and Grimlock guessed he was not a morning person. "The year I'll fragging fly again. Good riddance to the last three."

"I think we started off strong," Grimlock hummed. "You all hot and wet for me was prettier than any lantern."

Starscream woke up enough to flick Grimlock's arm, and he chuckled. Then he made the mistake of checking his HUD to see the time...and was met with a multitude of messages. It occurred to Grimlock, only then, that he had snuck away from the biggest holiday night of the year, without so much as a goodnight, to frag a mech he had pulled out of captivity and may go to prison over.

It would certainly be an interesting year, if it kept up like this.

The ones that stood out to him were from Swoop ( _ you are such an idiot _ ) and Paddles ( _ success? (;  _ ), but he also caught something worried from Wheeljack, something questioning from Pharma...and at least three from Skywarp, the most recent of which read  _ "CONGRATS ON THE SEX." _

Looking back, their leaving the party had probably not been as subtle as he had hoped.

Starscream made an annoyed sound in his arms. "Skywarp is  _ such  _ an idiot," he said, and Grimlock guessed Skywarp had sent him the same message. "Well, Grimlock, apparently people have wondered _ where we went off to.  _ Pharma's not happy I never reported back to my room, and unhappier still that Skywarp told him I...hm, he said 'went off to get laid.' This won't be a secret, that's for sure."

Grimlock's faceplates heated, but he stroked the edge of one of Starscream's wings. "What's a little more gossip?" he said after a moment. "We might as well be at the centre of more of it."

When Starscream rolled over, turning his gaze up to Grimlock, his optics were dark and hard to read. "Are you embarrassed by me?"

"No!" Grimlock sat up on his elbow as he said it, surprised. "No, no. I'm happy to take what comes. My worry is people will think this is..."

"Inappropriate?" Starscream finished. He rolled his optics, before he leaned back against Grimlock's arm. "Yes, the dangerous beast-mech with a dark past ravishing the younger Seeker, still in recovery and who had barely begun his life thanks to his  _ even more tragic  _ past. The palace will eat this up."

Starscream's optics flashed with pleasure as he said it, a smirk on his face, and Grimlock knew he would enjoy this. Attention unrelated to his captivity, if nothing else, might even be  _ good  _ for Starscream. Grimlock couldn't be unhappy about assisting with that.

"I should be more worried about Pharma," Grimlock muttered. "Primus knows he didn't clear you to interface monster beast-mechs."

"You were gentler than a cyberkitten," Starscream scoffed. "It is not  _ his  _ business what I get up to, and it's certainly not his business what you do. Spike me into the ground like I  _ want  _ and we'll see what happens."

Grimlock couldn't deny his frame warmed at the thought. Before Starscream could get in danger of convincing him, he lifted himself, offering a hand to the Seeker as he did. "Don't tempt me. I have a whole huge family I missed saying happy new year to, at any rate."

They hadn't bothered to polish off the paint transfers the night before, and now he set to buffing the red and white off his thighs and pelvic plating. At one point Starscream set his tools down, to turn Grimlock's helm for a deep, long kiss, and Grimlock became seriously worried he would be convinced into spending the whole first day of the year with this Seeker in his berth, too.

Grimlock risked a comm to Swoop when they were done.  _ Happy new year. You guys stay the night? _

_ Yeah,  _ he replied, almost immediately.  _ Thank Primus it was the plan and Wheeljack's not waiting around for you to finish with your Seeker. _

Starscream watched him, amused, as Grimlock stiffened on the berth's edge.  _ Presuming what I was up to? I could have been moping. _

_ Oh, Starscream's purple trinemate told, like, everyone. The blue one was trying to stop him, but apparently he was  _ super  _ excited you guys "banged way earlier than he expected." Carrier's mortified over you. _

"Your trinemate is a menace," Grimlock said after a moment. Starscream barked out a sharp laugh.

"I could have told you  _ that, _ " he said, leaning against Grimlock's shoulder. "He's a romantic at spark with the world's worst way of showing it."

" _ You're  _ not embarrassed?" Grimlock asked. He could feel a headache starting to pound between his optics. "I'm going to have to ask him not to air our business. Or...air whatever he  _ thinks  _ our business is."

Starscream grinned, his optics bright as they met Grimlock's gaze. "Embarrassed? Primus, no. I don't frag people unless I plan to be seen with them, you fool."

Still, Starscream didn't join Grimlock heading to have morning energon with his family. It made his plating heat with further mortification, but as Starscream had correctly pointed out, it _had_ only been their first date. Wherever this went, it was probably too early to formally meet the parents.

Paddles met him on the corner by the guest quarters, the brat. Grimlock could just tell from the sparkle in his optics that he was amused, maybe even pleased with himself, and he had to wonder where his brother had picked up "matchmaker" as a hobby.

"Happy new year," he said, nudging Grimlock's big arm with his elbow. "You spent it elsewhere, I hear."

"Ugh," Grimlock said, unable to be too annoyed with Paddles's sweet grin. "You're a brat, you know. Carrier and sire annoyed?"

"Eh, a little," Paddles said. He seemed unruffled by it, but he was one of the ones who got in the least trouble. Maybe he just wasn't as attuned to  _ annoyed.  _ "Sire wants to talk to you, but I bet we'll eat first. The kids want you to watch them open their presents."

"They waited?" Grimlock asked in surprise. Paddles laughed.

"Of course not," he said, keying the door back open. "But you're early enough that you only missed First Aid's new stuffies."

Thank Primus Grimlock had sent their gifts on early to his parents, or this would have been mortifying in a different way. Groove and Streetwise were in the process of tearing foil off their new little hover-cycles, Wheeljack watching them fondly as they squealed at how pretty they were, how the colours matched their frames. The look Ratchet gave Grimlock could have melted him to the floor, but it was as brief as it was sharp, and his sire returned quickly to smiling at First Aid in his lap. Grimlock's youngest brother had a brand new turbofox plush toy in his lap, and he was looking at it like he had found his true love in life. Soft toys rarely lasted long with Cybertronian children (especially ones with fangs and claws), but First Aid was a gentle sparkling. He already had a little collection at home, one monitored sternly when his wilder siblings were in contact.

Swoop saw Grimlock coming up, and turned his face away with one hand covering it. The slagger was  _ laughing  _ at him, and Grimlock couldn't do a thing about it in front of half a dozen sparklings. Unbelievable.

"Happy new year, my big mech!" It wasn't likely Wheeljack would be flustered by Grimlock's drama, really. Worried about him, maybe, and probably disappointed they had missed ringing in the new year with him. But Starscream could handle himself for a day, while Grimlock enjoyed this. "Your gifts are on the side table, but we're going by age."

Grimlock tried not to think about his personal drama, watching his younger siblings open their gifts. The little ones always got a nice pile of candy and small things along with their main presents, so it took quite some time between the youngest six to open everything they'd been given. Spoiled, maybe, but with twelve of them even their well-off family didn't spring for gifts throughout the year. He couldn't even remember what he had asked for, if anything.

When the kids had torn through all their wrapping foil and catalogued every toy, game, and piece of candy, the older ones insisted Wheeljack and Ratchet be next. The homemade gifts from the sparklings were appropriately exclaimed over (they were the only kind of knick-knack his parents really kept around, carefully dusted and cared for), and the purchased things ranged from practical to possibly illegal. Grimlock didn't ask  _ where  _ Slash had gotten triple-filtered nucleon for Wheeljack, but his carrier squealed for joy and apparently already had blueprints for the sort of weapon it'd really punch up. (Ratchet demanded said compound be stored outside the room, though Wheeljack said it was safe inert.)

Grimlock's own gifts were nice, of course. A special edition of a film he liked, some high-end weights, some polish (courtesy of Swoop, that brat). He thought little of them not because they weren't thoughtful, but because his mind was already full enough. He had to focus shortly after that anyway, wrangling Blades away from his new handheld game system and towards the laid-out table for morning fuel.

"After, alright?" he said, almost glad Blades was kicking at his chest.  _ That  _ he could focus on. "Unless you keep that up, then you'll have to wait."

Swoop had been watching his brother with mischief all morning. Only now, energon goodies on his plate and the little ones distracting Ratchet, did he boil over. "So how was your night, Grim?"

Slag elbowed him hard, causing Swoop to wheeze and Wheeljack to look up. Sludge looked pitying, across from him, but Slash was covering her mouth, unable to contain herself.

Grimlock reached for the cask of sweetened mid-grade. "Don't see what you're all giggling at," he said. "Not the first time one of us missed the lanterns."

"Going to berth early with a headache is a little different from going to berth early with someone else," Slash said in a low voice. Groove was talking loudly, and Snarl was trying to tell something to Ratchet over his voice, which made it easy for the older ones to talk.

"It was kind of a small display anyway," Slag said. "Conserving resources or something."

"It's the new year, and we're not gonna talk current events," Paddles said, more sternly. Swoop smiled again, and Grimlock sighed.

"Grimlock being a hot-spot robber is  _ kind  _ of current events," Swoop said mildly. "That Seeker is younger than Paddles."

Slash couldn't hide her giggle, and Grimlock resisted the urge to rest his helm directly on his plate. Unbelievable.

"I think of any  _ flaws  _ in the situation, that one is low on the list," Grimlock sighed. "I keep saying it's  _ my  _ business."

"Your business is technically carrier's patient, since he's CMO here," Swoop said. "Just preparing you for the fun part of talking to him, big mech."

Grimlock stifled a groan. "Yeah, that's the fun part, isn't it?"

"Nothing like 'the talk' when you're the oldest of twelve," Sludge said, as he reached for a basket of goodies. Grimlock really did cover his face with his hands then, and the hopeless Swoop couldn't stop grinning all meal.

Ratchet stopped him on his way out. Grimlock should have known it would be harder than to think the little ones would distract him.

"Just what do you think you're doing?" his sire asked, gaze fierce. The one he used when he need one of them to feel like a chastised sparkling, to  _ really listen. _

Grimlock thought carefully about what to say. Playing stupid with Ratchet never worked. "Courting, I'd think."

Ratchet's optics narrowed. "'Courting' does not typically involve 'fragging on the first date,' and nor do people court illegal fugitives they rescued under illegal circumstances. I've seen scans of your brain module, so  _ why  _ are you thinking with your spike?"

Grimlock's whole frame seemed to flush with heat and embarrassment, but if Ratchet noticed he was unmoved. He straightened, tilting his head up, and clearly unbothered by his oldest sparkling's great height. But not once had Grimlock ever seen his sire flinch at someone else's gaze.

"Starscream and I have been in close quarters," Grimlock started carefully. "And I care for him deeply. It's been awhile since I felt something like that about...anyone."

Ratchet huffed a sigh, his shoulders relaxing. "You're a soft-sparked idiot," he said. Grimlock caught the fondness on the edge of his voice. "If you wanted to stay  _ out  _ of trouble and gossip, this is the wrong way to do it. Especially if that Skywarp kid can't keep his mouth shut."

It was Grimlock's turn to sigh. "No hope of that, sire."

Ratchet chuckled, but his gaze was quickly sharp again. Concerned. "You're in a very fragile position, and I just worry this whirlwind romance of yours will crack it further. Starscream plays his games, but we both know he's more fragile than that. He has been through  _ a lot. _ "

"I might know that better than anyone," Grimlock said, more softly. "You don't really think I'd  _ hurt  _ him. I--like, medically, he's not ready for--"

"For spark's sake, I don't mean  _ details, _ " Ratchet snapped. Grimlock flushed furiously again. "He'll be cleared very soon, I was just going over it yesterday. It's what's in the  _ spark  _ that you need to be gentle with."

"Of course," Grimlock said softly. Starscream would hope everyone believed his spark was cloaked in titanium, the will that had protected him from flight sickness, but everyone who could wriggle close to him knew better. "I'm out to do quite the opposite of hurting him."

Ratchet huffed out another sigh. "I know you are. But this--and his trauma--are bigger than either of you."

"Don't let him hear you say that," Grimlock said, and Ratchet tapped him firmly on the arm.

"Be gentle with yourself, too," he said. "You got a temporary reprieve, no final verdict yet. At least I know that you're safe on these grounds."

"Yes," Grimlock sighed. They both knew full well how capable Grimlock was of defending himself. "We do have that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> skywarp and paddles like:
> 
> https://i.redd.it/03sj8itcb0g51.png


End file.
